


Multifarious

by AvariceNSpice



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Blood, Damian's a Handful, F/F, F/M, Female Character of Color, Fluff, Friendship to Love, Interracial Relationship, It'll Probably Change, M/M, Mentions of Damian/Lian, Mentions of Tim/Kon-El, Mentions of Tim/Stephanie, Multi, Multiple Partners, PoC, Polyamory, Rating May Change, Romance, Size Difference, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Threesome - F/M/M, Underage Sex, Violence, bisexual male, body image issues, everythings later, four years age difference, later though, this is literally the slowest burn ever, two year age difference
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:31:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 52
Words: 194,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1883679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvariceNSpice/pseuds/AvariceNSpice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Tim needs to throw morals out the window and learn how to deal with Damian, Rowan is a nerdy buffer that happens to be addicted to food and sharpies, and Damian is still a little shit. (Who just so happens to be the only thing holding this group together.)</p><p>or</p><p>mul·ti·far·i·ous [muhl-tuh-fair-ee-uhs] adjective 1.having many different parts, elements, forms, etc 2. numerous and varied; greatly diverse or manifold: multifarious activities. Because Rowan should have known that simple is not a word that should ever be used in relation to Damian Wayne.</p><p>(Also hosted on Fanfiction.net)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I’ve been meaning to write this for a long time. The first chapter is finally done and I am so happy. Anyway, this is going to be very AU, so please don’t kill me for any inconsistencies with the comic. If you have any suggestions on something that needs to fixed, like character personality wise, then please tell me. I haven’t read the comics, so anyone and everyone will be appreciated. This will be a prologue of sorts, and I don’t quite know how the timeline will go as I will be spanning a few years with this story. Much like my other story, The Darkest Caress (A Lords Of The Underworld Fanfic), this will start with chapters that will be anywhere from really short to really long. I will keep them over 1,000 words each, however. The characters will slowly age up. Trust me when I say the time line is actually a hell of a lot less confusing then I make it out to be. It will be no were as near as bad as the DC timeline. (Which made it entirely to fucking hard to figure out everyone’s age.)  
> For the purpose of this story, the ages will start off as follows:  
> Rowan Chase: 8  
> Damian Wayne: 10  
> Tim Drake: 12  
> Dick Grayson: 20  
> Bruce Wayne: 34  
> I know the age gaps weren’t like that, but I did it for a reason.  
> Anyway please enjoy and tell me what you think.

Rowan sat silently and watched as people rushed around the normally spacious kitchen. Cooks put the finishing touches on random dishes and heated those that were to be served warm. Servers went in and out with their silver trays, most of them leaving with yet another round of delicacies. Some of them shot curious glances at her as she sat all alone in the very corner of the kitchen, others gave her knowing looks.  It was cramped and she looked as if she was being put on time out, but there really wasn’t anywhere else for her to stand without being in the way.

Ms. Stacy prided herself on running a smooth and flawless catering service, if that meant sticking a little girl in the corner than that was what she was going to do. Rowan didn’t much like being forced to sit in the corner, but she couldn’t really do anything about it. Ms. Stacy was her Mama’s boss and Rowan knew her Mama really needed her job. The fact that Rowan had shown up about halfway through the Wayne party was enough to have Ms. Stacy seriously irritated.

Rowan’s Mama had been telling her the day before how fancy this party was going to be. Ms. Stacy had been planning for this party for weeks and had wanted to make sure everything was absolutely perfect. She had picked only her best servers and made sure all the food was delicious and yummy looking. According to her, this party was going to be a serious pay day for Stacy’s catering. If everything went smoothly, she was hoping that she would be invited back to cater future parties at the Wayne manor.

Having an 8 year old in the kitchen, however, was just asking for trouble. But Rowan wasn’t like most other 8 year olds. She knew her Mama needed the money from this job. Besides, she was never one to run around and cause mayhem. But unfortunately, Ms. Stacy didn’t know that.

 Rowan’s Mama had never taken her to work before. She’d never had any intention to either. Her Mama worked on the floor as one of Ms. Stacy’s best servers. She spent most of her time in the midst of whatever party she was at offering food or drinks, which was why she didn’t even know Rowan was here yet. Right now her Mama still probably thought she was at home in their little apartment with her baby sitter Sara…..

“Baby Girl what the _hell_ are you doing here?”

Or not.

Rowan flinched and looked up to see irritation and worry in her Mama’s honey brown eyes. Normally she loved looking at her Mama’s pretty eyes, but not right now. Right now she wanted to go home and hide under her covers. She wanted to be away from this giant mansion with all the pretty people and just let her Mama work. She knew she should leave and just go home. She really really wanted to. Except she didn’t want to be alone.

“I actually have the same question.”

Rowan turned her head only to see that it had been Ms. Stacy who had been talking. She had a mean look on her face and her hands were on her hips.

Rowan pushed her glasses up and stuck her hands in her jacket pockets nervously. Both her Mama and Ms. Stacy looked mad and it made her uncomfortable. She hated when people were mad at her.

“ _Well?_ ” her Mama asked.

Rowan pushed her hands even farther into her pockets and glanced away nervously before talking.

“I, um, I just didn’t want… I didn’t wanna be by myself.”

“Baby that’s what I left you with Sara,” her Mama replied, voice slightly softened.

The soft note reassured her, and Rowan turned her gaze back towards her Mama. She licked her suddenly dry lips before speaking again.

“She left though….”

There was a long silence before her Mama’s voice rang clear.

“ _Excuse me?!”_

Rowan winced. She didn’t want her Mama to be mad. She shouldn’t have come, but she just didn’t want to be all alone at home. Especially since she was in Gotham. The things her vivid imagination could come up with terrified her.

“Lower your voice Miranda! I don’t want to cause any trouble tonight,” Ms. Stacy said with a glare.

Rowan watched her Mama’s fist clench in anger before she spoke again.

“Why’d she leave Rowan?”

Rowan scrunched up her nose and pushed her small nails into the palms of her hands.

“I think… I think her boyfriend called? Maybe… I just know that I heard them talking on the phone… And then she came to check on me in my room… She thought I was asleep I think…. And then she left me there and I heard the front door open and close….”

Rowan closed her eyes and forced herself to continue. She hated talking to people. It made her uncomfortable, even if it was just her Mama and Ms. Stacy.

“I thought she maybe just went downstairs…. But then she didn’t come back for a while… And I got worried so I went downstairs too but I didn’t see her… I know I’m not supposed to leave the apartment at night but I was worried… And then I couldn’t find her and I know you don’t like me being alone… I remembered where you said you were gonna be so I called a cab… I used the emergency money… I’m sorry Mama…”

Rowan tipped her head forward in embarrassment and let her frizzy hair hide her face.

There was silence again, but longer this time.

Finally Ms. Stacy sighed.

“She can stay, but she has to sit here. I can’t have her disrupting my kitchen. And this _better_ not happen again.”

Rowan looked up and saw the look of pure fury on her Mama’s face.

“Oh trust me. This won’t happen again. IT WON’T HAPPEN EVER AGAIN BECAUSE NEXT TIME I SEE THAT FUCKING BITCH I’M PUTTING MY FUCKING HEEL UP HER ASS!”

Her Mama’s voice had risen steadily as she had spoken, but unfortunately Ms. Stacy had not been able to silence her before she reached an all-out shriek. Every eye in the kitchen turned towards them and Rowan wanted to just die. She could feel her brown skin heat up in a hot blush. It got worse as a fancy looking white haired man walked towards them.

“Miranda if you don’t calm down right now I swear I _will_ fire you!” Ms. Stacy whispered hurriedly.

Rowan watched as her Mama squished her anger. Her jaw was still noticeably clenched, but she had calmed down considerably in just a few moments. It seemed it was just in time too.

“Is everything all right Miss?” the white haired man asked in a British accent. The look on his face was more concerned than anything, yet it still made Rowan feel uncomfortable.

Before Miranda could answer, Ms. Stacy began speaking.

“Everything’s just fine Mr. Pennyworth. Please, this doesn’t normally happen. Miranda,” she said gesturing to Rowan’s Mama,” is one of my servers. The little girl is her daughter. Her baby sitter left so she’s just going to sit here. Miranda is going to go back out on the floor, and I assure you that there will be _no more trouble._ ” She finished with a pointed look at Rowan and her Mama.

The man, Mr. Pennyworth, turned a sympathetic gaze towards Rowan. It only increased her need to hide.

“Well now, such a nice little miss shouldn’t have to sit in a corner all night. She hasn’t done anything wrong. If you’d like I’m sure Master Wayne wouldn’t mind if she used one of the entertainment rooms for the night.”

Rowan sucked in a breath. As long as there were people in the house or it was the daytime she didn’t mind being alone, in fact she preferred it. But this was different. She didn’t want to go to some room in this giant place. She wanted to stay here.

“Oh! No thank you. We don’t want to be a burden. She’ll be just fine here. Besides, I don’t really want her to be alone.” Miranda replied.

Just as her nerves started to settle, another, new voice spoke up.

“I was just leaving the party. She can keep me company.”

Rowan turned towards the voice. It was a boy, maybe a few years older than her. He had dark gelled hair and the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. He stood expressionless in an expensive looking tuxedo with his hands in his pants pockets. Other than the fact that he was dressed really fancy, he looked normal, if a little bit exotic, to her 8 year old eyes. Yet there was something about him that set her on edge. And that was saying something considering the fact that she had been ready to die in a hole for the last 15 minutes. She really didn’t want to go with him.

Before Rowan could so much as let out a squeak of protest, however, her Mama began to speak in a relieved voice.

“Oh you’re so sweet! You’re sure your Dad wouldn’t mind? I really don’t want cause any trouble.”

The boy gave Rowan’s Mama a look that she didn’t understand before replying.

“It’s fine, she can come with me now,” he said. And with that, he turned and began to walk away. Dumbstruck, Rowan stayed completely still even as her Mama pulled her up and pushed her towards the boy.

“Ro, I need you to go play with him until Mama is done working okay? It might be really late though, so you two go to sleep if you get tired.”

Before she could even answer, her Mama had given her a kiss on the cheek and she was making her way back to the party. Not wanting to be stuck under the irritated gaze of Ms. Stacy, Rowan scrambled after the boy. By the time she caught up to him, he was already walking out of the kitchen door. She thought it was kind of mean that he hadn’t stopped for her, but she decided to keep that to herself.

As they walked, Rowan tried not to freak out over the fact that he simply walked through the halls without turning on any of the lights. The dim light from the moon was more than enough to see, but walking through such fancy hallways in the dark was really creepy. It made it seem as if the portraits that lined the walls were staring at her. The very thought made her shiver and she moved closer to the boy. For the first time since offering to take him with her, he glanced over his shoulder.

One word flashed through her mind as the dim lighting made his green eyes flash.

_‘Beautiful’_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Damian had almost forgotten about the young girl behind him before he’d heard her shuffle closer to him. He glanced back at her and caught large brown eyes shining back at him. He raised one eyebrow at her even as he continued to walk, and she blushed and looked back down, fidgeting with something in her pocket as she did so.

 _‘Weak.’_ He thought with disgust.

He turned his gaze back in front of him, scoffing at her.

He had half a mind to dump her in the nearest room, but he knew Pennyworth would most likely check on them within the next few hours. If word got back to his Father that he’d left the party without a ‘proper reason’, then he’d probably be made to go back. The thought of going back to the useless gathering when he could be patrolling or something equally worthwhile angered him to no end. With a scowl on his face, he looked at the girl once more.

When he’d heard a commotion in the kitchen, he’d gone to investigate and he’d found the perfect ‘reason’ to leave the party. His Father had been imploring him to act his age for quite some time, and what better way than for him to ‘play’ with another child? Of course Damian was planning on seating her in front of the TV in the game room, then gathering intelligence on a local mob boss using his computer, but Bruce didn’t have to know that. He’d stay in the same room with the girl, and make it look as if they were simply watching television together. Besides, the girl seemed deathly shy, so he figured that she wouldn’t bother him too much. Hopefully that would please his Father, and the man would begin to take him more seriously.

Once they reached the game room, Damian flipped the light switch without breaking his stride and moved to turn on the TV. Once done, he turned to see the girl gawking at the room, completely frozen in place. He glanced around at the large flat screen TV, pool table, and the multitude of games before rolling his eyes.

“Well don’t just stand there like an imbecile, sit down already.”

He watched as she flinched, then slowly made her way towards the couch he was standing in front of. She sat, obviously trying to take up as little room as possible. The girl was already tiny, however. She couldn’t be more than 6 or 7.

He dropped the remote in her hands before heading towards the door.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Watch whatever you wish, but don’t leave.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before leaving. As he’d said, it only took him a few minutes to gather his laptop and a few other choice items. He came back to the room and only spared enough of his attention to make sure she was still there before focusing on more important things.

He made his way over to her and sat down, computer in his lap. As soon as the machine was booted up and ready to go, he began his project. As seconds turned into minutes, and minutes became hours, Damian began to notice things. The first was that his assumption that the girl would not bother him was completely correct. She hadn’t said a word, nor had she even really moved. The second was that the news was playing on the TV. It was the channel that had been on when he’d turned on the television, and it seemed she hadn’t changed it. Now that wouldn’t have bothered him, especially considering the fact that the news channel was usually the only channel he watched, if not for the fact that the girl was so young.

_‘Shouldn’t she be watching cartoons or some other vapid show?’_

Curious, he looked over at her, only to see that she wasn’t paying the slightest attention to the TV. In fact, she wasn’t paying attention to anything in the room at all. Instead, all of her focus seemed to be on the twine she was fiddling with. Frowning, he turned all of his attention towards her. She seemed to be looping the twine in intricate knots, over and over again. The knots were not anything he was familiar with, however, so he watched her carefully.

After a while, she seemed to feel his gaze on her.

She looked up at him and watched with interest as her brown cheeks darkened with color. He’d never seen someone blush quite so much.

“Hi,” she said softly after a couple of seconds. He sighed at the fact that she would probably spend most of her time talking in that irritatingly quiet voice of hers.

“How old are you?” he found himself asking.

She raised her hands and held up some fingers.

“Eight then? You’re small for your age.”

She looked back down at her knots and shrugged. Once again curious, he watched as she tied a few more knots. As she did this, he began to wonder how it would turn out on actual rope. Would it be harder to break out of?

“What is that?”

She looked back up at him, obviously not expecting his question.

“It’s, um, I’m making a friendship bracelet.” She said while holding it up closer for him to see. It was only about three inches long. He sighed, and restated his question. It was obvious that she hadn’t correctly understood him.

“Yes, I am aware. What type of knot are you using?”

Her eyes widened in understanding, and she let out a small ‘oh’.

“It’s a star pattern. Usually you use lanyard string, but I wanted to see how it would look on twine…”

“Show me.”

She stared at him for a second before slowly moving closer and bringing her bracelet up farther. They both bent towards it as she softly explained it to him. After doing so, she handed it over so he could practice. As he tied it, he decided that it probably wouldn’t be particularly useful for tying people up, yet his interests were still slightly peaked. After perfecting the knots in just under a minute, he handed it back to her.

“How’d you learn it so quick?” she asked, eyes wide and voice full of amazement.

He smirked at her before answering.

“I have superior learning abilities. Do you know how to do any other knots?”

She simply looked at him, before shoving the left sleeve of her jacket up. She shoved her arm towards him and he was faced with a colorful array of bracelets in different patterns all the way up to her elbow.

“I can do these. I have more string if you want me to show you.” She said, blush back on her face.

Damian glanced at his watch. It read 10:23. The party would probably go on for hours yet. That was plenty of time. Damian smirked at the thought. Tim was probably going to be stuck in there all night.

_‘Idiot’s probably fuming at the fact that I got to leave.’_

“Show me how.”

“Which one?”

“All of them.”

Her eyes widened and she gaped at him.

“But-“

“Hurry up, you’re wasting time.”

She immediately shut her mouth and flushed.

“Um, okay. Let’s start with this one then…”

She pulled out a wad of string from her pocket and told him to pick four colors, and they began.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

**4 Hours Later**

“Once again, I am _so_ sorry about this. I swear if you hire us again this won’t happen.” Miranda said to the handsome man beside her. Bruce Wayne had sent his eldest son to help her find her way to Rowan, and she was extremely embarrassed by the night’s events to say the least.

“For the last time, please don’t worry about it. Damian doesn’t get out enough, and I’m glad that he got to spend the night with another kid. Besides, I know for a fact that he was just dying to leave the party.” Dick’s voice was friendly as he spoke, and it put Miranda at ease. Well, as much as she could be given the situation. The moment she got home she was going to put Rowan to bed and go find the little bitch that dared to leave her baby all alone. And to think, the little whore hadn’t even bothered to call by now! Rowan had been here for hours, and that girl had to have gone back to the house already. As soon as Miranda found her, she was going to show her a whole new type of hell.

She was broken out of her hate filled thoughts by the sound of Richards’s voice. She smiled at the sound of it. It was low and smooth and made her think of all kinds of sinful things.

_‘Man, the tabloids sure as hell got it right when they said this one was a panty dropper.’_

She slowed her stride to make it seem as if she was admiring the admittedly beautiful decor, when in fact she was actually just checking out the man’s rather fine ass.

“Talk about buns of steel…” she muttered to herself.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.” Dick said over his shoulder.

Without missing a beat, she lied straight through her teeth.

“I was thinking about getting steel toed boots so that I could properly kick my baby sitters face in.”

That probably wasn’t the best thing to say to the man, but she could honestly care less. Besides, he was laughing.

“It’s a shame, it seems like you just can’t trust people these days.”

“Tell me about it.” She replied, thinking of every nasty word she could call Sara once she saw her.

After passing a few more doors, Dick stopped in front of one at the very end of a hall. Miranda sighed in envy of all the very beautiful and very expensive things she’d seen tonight.

“They should be in here. I wouldn’t be surprised if Damian was still awake, though your daughter might not be.” He said in that deep baritone of his.

Miranda smiled at him, before thanking him again.

“No problem,” he said while opening the door. Instead of walking through it, however, he stood in place.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, beginning to worry.

He immediately snapped out of his daze and gave her a dazzling smile.

“Of course not, I’m just surprised to see, well, this.” He said quietly, pointing into the room.

He moved out of the way so she could gaze in.

She immediately had to hold back a squeal. Damian was sitting on the couch asleep with his head in his hand, while Rowan was slumped against his side. They were surrounded by the twine she’d given Rowan for her 7th birthday, along with movies, candy, and popcorn. The screen in front of them was in the middle of the movie Mulan, and it was obvious they’d fallen asleep halfway through it. All in all they looked absolutely _adorable._

“Do you mind if I take a picture? I mean, Damian never usually acts like this, and I just-“ Miranda had to stop him there.

“Say no more, just make sure I get a copy.”

He smiled at her and nodded before speaking in a small whisper.

“You know if we wake her up, Damian’s going to wake up too, and it is late. If you’d like, you can come get her in the morning.”

Miranda frowned. As wonderful as that sounded, she had to get up and work at the salon tomorrow. She wouldn’t have time to come back to get Rowan, and Rowan’s Gran was still out of town.

“I’d love to, but I have work.”

“Oh that’s no problem; Alfred can take her home for you.”

“Really? Oh I don’t know, I’ve already caused so much trouble tonight.”

“I insist. Damian’s never even had a sleep over before. This would be good for him.”

Miranda was surprised by the information. What kind of 10 year old has never had a sleep over? She decided to dismiss it, however, and take Dick up on his offer. After all, that would give her time to deal with Sara before Rowan got home. She brightened at the thought.

“Are you sure that would be okay with your father?”

“Oh trust me, Bruce will be ecstatic.”

“Then that would be wonderful, thank you.”

“No problem. I’ll have her call you when she wakes up. Does she know your number?”

“Of course, thank you so much Mr. Grayson.”

The man smiled as he shut the door and began the long trek back towards the main entrance.

“No, thank you. And you can call me Dick.”

Miranda laughed, and followed him out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Surprised I’m updating so quickly? Well so am I. Frankly, I’m very proud of myself u.u  
> Anyhow, read, enjoy, and review. If you have any suggestions please feel free to tell me.

' _94, 95, 96, 97,'_

Damian silently counted as he lifted himself, over and over. He'd been doing his morning training regime for hours, and he was nearly done.

Just as he reached one hundred pull ups, however, there was knock on his door. Grunting, he dropped to the floor. Rolling his shoulders, he opened the door. He stared at the two people in front of him with a scowl.

"You're early."

Instead of the response he'd expected from the girl, Pennyworth answered.

"Actually Young Sir, I informed you that Ms. Rowan would be arriving early just last night."

"I wasn't listening," he replied, glancing at the fidgeting girl in front of him.

"I am well aware Sir. Anyhow, I'll leave the Young Miss in your care for now. As always, I am here if you need anything." With one last smile towards Rowan, Pennyworth took his leave.

Damian stepped back from his doorway with a glower. He'd known she was coming, but he'd planned for her to be there at 10 am, well after he was done with his workout.

He directed her to the seat by his desk before going to get a towel to wipe off the sweat that had accumulated on his body. After drying himself, he switched out his shirt for something drier.

"Did you bring the movies?" he called from his place across the room. He didn't even need to really ask considering the fact that they were the only reason he'd even invited her over. A few months ago while they'd been practicing different patterns, they'd run out of string. He'd been dismayed and ended up telling her to pick a movie to occupy herself until her mother came for her. He'd never even looked at the massive DVD collection in the game room before, so he'd had no idea what she picked. Curious, he'd watched only to find out that it was some odd combination of a musical, cartoon, and nature documentary that she'd called The Lion King.

For the most part he'd spent the duration of the movie picking out various flaws. She'd laugh, and sometimes even give her own input on his opinions, albeit very quietly. It became a sort of game for them. To his surprise, he'd actually enjoyed himself. He'd told her to put in another movie, and they continued on much the same way. At some point, he had even felt relaxed enough to fall asleep.

His internal clock had woken him up at 5 am the next morning, and he'd been startled to find Rowan still there. Confused, he'd called for Pennyworth and asked him what was going on. The butler had told him that Rowan's mother had allowed her to spend the night.

"Why?" he'd asked, blunt as ever.

Pennyworth had explained something about not wanting to wake her up so late and letting them enjoy each other's company. Damian had scoffed and told him to prepare breakfast. He'd gone back to the game room hours later, fully intending to wake her up, get her fed, and send her on her way. Instead he'd found her already awake and watching another movie. He'd sat down and they'd continued their 'game' almost as if they'd never stopped. Somehow they'd managed to eat breakfast and go through his entire Disney collection before she went home.

On her way out, she'd mentioned that she lived above the ice cream parlor her Grandmother owned, and that he was welcome anytime. Rowan had given him the name of the establishment as well as the location. He supposed that it was really her mother who had extended the invitation, but he'd decided not to say anything.

For a while, he'd simply forgotten about it, but then one night on Patrol he'd passed by a small two story building with a sign that said 'Rose's Sweet Treats'. Remembering what she had said, he'd decided to go the next day. After all, since Richard had introduced him to the wonderful world of junk food, he'd seemed to have quite the sweet tooth. To his chagrined delight, he'd found that not only did they sell delicious ice cream, but they sold pastries as well. It was because of that very reason that he found himself at the shop once again, not two days later.

When he'd gone, a demure looking old woman had been behind the counter. He'd assumed that she was Rose, but decided to not to mention her granddaughter. The second time he went, however, was greeted by the sight of Rowan sitting at one of the small round tables reading a book. He'd gotten his sweets and ignored her for the most part, but he knew she would notice him eventually. When she did, it was rather obvious, for he caught her staring over her book from her tiny pair of glasses.

He'd raised one eyebrow, and then asked her if she planned to sit there and stare all day. Blushing, the girl had gotten off her ass and walked over to him. It had been painful watching her stand there and practically exuded awkwardness, so he'd told her to sit down. She followed his instructions, and satisfied that he'd fulfilled all of his social duties for the day, he'd eaten his ice cream in silence.

Or at least he had until she finally found her voice and spoke up.

"What flavor are you eating?"

He'd looked at her with a blank expression and replied "Coffee."

She'd smiled and he remembered thinking that her dimples made her look even younger.

"Coffee is a good flavor, but it's even better if you get it with chocolate almond. Oooh, and it's even better with an almond tart."

As she spoke her voice had risen, and she had been practically jumping in her seat.

"You know I think I've seen less enthusiastic people begging for their lives," He'd told her, smirk on his face.

She'd blushed crimson and simply shrugged, effectively calmed. By then he'd been done with his treat, so he'd gotten up to leave.

"Maybe I'll try it next time," he'd told her on his way out.

And he had. It had been delicious, and as he ate she gave him even more suggestions that had him coming back, day after day. Every time he went, their conversations seemed to slowly drift into other topics like books, and TV shows. He had even ended up helping her with her disgustingly easy homework a few times. (Although he had to admit that she wasn't stupid, she just had atrocious hand writing and she simply needed him to make sure it was legible.)

Eventually, after talking about their impromptu Disney movie marathon, she'd mentioned something about Pixar movies and Studio Ghibli. Intrigued, he'd and invited her over the upcoming Saturday without so much as asking Alfred, let alone his father. After calling her Mother to confirm, she'd bid him goodbye for the day with a small smile and a promise to bring over all over her movies.

When he'd told Alfred that he would be having company soon, the butler had wasted no time in informing his father. Not even an hour after he'd told Alfred the news, Bruce had gone to Damian's room to inquire if it was true.

"Of course," Damian had said, "of course if you'd rather not have her over-"

His father had cut him off quickly with a quick stream of encouragements. That is, until the situation fully sunk in.

"Wait, her? Do you mean Irey or Lian?"

Damian's thoughts had gone fleetingly to the two girls and he rolled his eyes. He'd only met them briefly a few weeks ago. They weren't  _horribly_  intolerable, unlike Drake. But still, after a while they grated on his nerves.

"No, Rowan's coming over. We are watching movies Father."

"Rowan? Oh, you mean that server's little girl from the gala we had a few months ago."

"Of course," he'd replied.

At that point, it seemed even Richard had been informed, because he had been standing in Damian's doorway.

"I didn't know you even still talked to her, Dami."

Damian scowled at the pet name Richard insisted on before he replied.

"Well it was none of your business in the first place."

"Wow, someone's defensive." Richard had retorted, throwing his hands up in defense.

"I'm not defensive. I am simply stating a fact. What are you doing here anyway? Don't you have some harlot to bed somewhere?"

Richard had pulled a face and put his hand over his heart.

"Ouch Dami, that really hurt. Is that what you think of me?"

They'd continued like that for a while before his father put an end to it. Damian had continued to go to the ice cream parlor every day for the rest of the week, and at that point he had to face the fact that he was no longer going  _just_  for the ice cream. Eventually the week had flown by, and Saturday had come.

And now here she was, sitting completely silent.

"Well?" he said while turning to face her. She was staring at her lap, and jumped when he spoke. Her eyes darted towards him, and then back down as she blushed.

"Um, yes. They're in my back pack."

He rolled his eyes before making his way to his bedroom door.

"Come on then, let's go."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Rowan shuffled behind Damian awkwardly as they made their way towards the game room. It wasn't that she didn't like him, it was just that he was a bit… Intimidating. He was taller than her, and she was pretty sure he was a lot stronger too. On top of that, he had very strong opinions and he wasn't afraid to voice them.

She'd figured that out when five minutes into The Lion King, he began ranting about just about everything. From the singing to the way the animals looked, he always had something to say. Honestly, it had been kind of funny… So she'd laughed. The first time, she'd clapped her hand over her mouth, afraid of what he might do. To her surprise, he'd simply took one glance at her and continued. Encouraged by his behavior, she'd began to relax, and actually had fun. They managed to continue the easy mood the following morning, and everything had been great.

Things had gotten even better when he'd started coming to Gran's parlor. As grumpy as he was, she found that he was actually pretty easy to talk to. Gran watched her every day after school, and it was nice to not have to sit alone as she tended to the customers.

Her Mama had been really happy when Damian had invited her over again. Rowan didn't have a lot of friends, and her Mama was excited that she'd finally met someone she got along with. On top of that, she'd also jumped on the chance to smooth things over after the whole party incident. All in all, Rowan's Mama was probably more excited than she was.

Clearing her throat, Rowan worked up the courage to say something.

"So do you know what kind of movie you want to watch?"

It took a while before he answered, and for a second Rowan thought that she'd spoken to softly.

"What kind of movies do you have?"

His voice was even, and he didn't sound annoyed like he had when she'd first came. That wasn't to say that his voice wasn't without infliction, however. After two months of talking with him, she'd come to learn that half of everything he said came out slightly offensive. Almost as if he was ready to bite your head off if you made one wrong move. She found that after a while, however, he softened quite a bit.

"I've got romance, fantasy, sci-fi, and adventure. Fantasy is my favorite though."

He hummed in acknowledgment as they reached the game room, and walked over to the entertainment center before he answered.

"We can watch a fantasy movie then. I think I'll rather enjoy picking out all of the improbabilities."

Even as she once again took in the sheer splendor of the room she was in, she found that she was smiling softly at his words. The room was exactly the same as she remembered, but somehow in the midst of her fatigue, she hadn't been able to quite catch the true essence of how amazing it really was.

Now however, after a full nights rest, she could see that was far bigger than she had realized. Directly in front of her there was, of course, an entertainment center. It held the biggest TV she'd ever seen, and boasted surround sound speakers and comfortable leather couches. Next to the TV, there was a case that had to be at least seven feet tall filled to the brim with DVDs and video games. Behind the entertainment center, there was a pool table off to the left, and a mini bar that she knew contained candy and popcorn kernels as well as alcohol. To the right there was an actual full sized popcorn machine. Not only was everything in the room state of the art, but it was kept spotless as well. In conclusion, she was absolutely terrified to touch anything and kind of wanted to leave.

That would be rude, however, so she simply made her way to towards Damian and sat down on the other end of the couch. She unzipped the back pack she'd brought, and began to pull things out. She unloaded her movies, and smiled once she reached the containers at the bottom of her bag.

"Do you like peanut butter cookies?" she asked, turning towards Damian.

He looked away from the TV he was changing to the proper channel to answer her.

"Yes, why?"

She grinned brightly, and showed him the two containers filled to the brim with the cookies she'd made the night before. Last year her Gran had taught her how to bake, and ever since she'd been baking at least once a week. So far she could only make peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies, but she was going to try to make a cake soon.

"I brought some. I have chocolate chip too."

He stared at her before saying "Well what are you waiting for? Open them up."

She laughed before pulling the tops off and setting them carefully on the dark coffee table in front of them.

She watched with bated breath as he took a chocolate chip cookie and bit into it. As he chewed, he noticed her staring.

"Did you make these?" he asked.

She nodded, and chewed on her bottom lip.

He simply continued to eat the cookie as he messed with the TV. By the time he was done, the cookie was gone, and he was looking at her expectantly.

"So which movie did you pick?"

She quickly picked up her favorite movie of all time without even thinking about it. She handed it to him and watched as he slipped it into the DVD player while reading off the title.

"Princes Mononoke?"

She kicked off her shoes before pulling her knees up to her chest and answering.

"Mhm, it's my favorite."

He silently read the back cover while walking over to the couch. As the trailers played, he paused in his tracks. He was glaring intensely towards the door, so Rowan turned.

She felt her face heat as she caught site of Damian's older brother, Richard, almost completely filling up the doorframe with a camera in his hand.

"Say cheese!" he said, camera flashing.

She watched as Damian shot off towards him with a yell.

"What the  _hell_  do you think you're doing?"

Richard laughed and lifted the camera above his head as Damian made a grab for it.

"I'm capturing memories! To think, our little Dami has finally made a friend."

She watched, trying not to laugh as Richard wiped away an imaginary tear. And then immediately afterwards she gaped as Damian aimed a high kick at his brother's stomach. To her utter amazement, Richard caught Damian's foot.

Damian wrenched his foot out of Richard's grasp and righted himself.

"Give me the camera, Grayson," he said, voice as low as he could possibly get it at his age.

"Oh so now we're back to Grayson? And to think, I was sure we had made so much progress."

"You better not show those to anyone or so help me Grayson I will take your camera and shove it so far up your a-"

Richard cut him off before he could finish his threat.

"Oh would you look at the time, well, I'm off to do other things now. Have fun you two!" and with that he was gone.

Damian let out a sound of frustration before stalking back towards Rowan. By now all of the trailers had finished, and the menu screen was on. Damian sat down and pressed play, while Rowan sat and watched him from the corner of her eye. He looked kind of like an angry puppy to her in all honesty. Except he was an extremely mean, extremely mouthy angry puppy who apparently knew martial arts.

Eventually, when she saw that Damian had begun to calm down, she let herself get distracted by the movie. About 20 minutes in, Damian finally spoke.

"They're really good."

Startled out of her movie trance, Rowan turned towards him with an "Hm?"

He was eating another one of her cookies, not looking her way.

"The cookies, they're pretty good."

She felt a genuine smile bloom on her face, and it only seemed to widen at his next comment.

"But that wolf, on the other hand, is ridiculous."

"Well it has to be big enough for her to ride."

He let out the odd "Tt" sound she'd come to think of as completely Damian.

"She could have just ridden a horse like normal people."

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so angry with AO3 formatting it won't let me copy and paste right. Ugh.

"Damian, why are we at an ice cream parlor?"

When Dick had told him that Damian not only had a friend, but that she was a civilian who Damian didn't constantly patronize, Tim knew he just had to meet her. Though he lived in the manor, he'd still managed to miss the one time he'd brought the girl over, and somehow Damian had managed to avoid Tim every time he'd gone to visit her for almost a year. After a brief conversation though, Tim had managed to convince Bruce that Damian needed an escort, and the man had practically forced Damian to wait for Tim the next time he went out. But now, well now they were at an ice cream parlor, and Tim was so tired of Damian's bullshit.

"Well?"

Damian rolled his eyes and looked at Tim like he was an idiot.

"She lives above it. Can you be any more of an imbecile Drake?"

Tim clenched his jaw.

"I'm not. How was I supposed to know she lives here?"

Instead of answering, Damian walked through the door, forcing Tim to follow. He looked around, and found that the shop was very pleasant. There was a good amount of people milling around, eating their respective treats. The décor was mostly soft pinks and whites. It had multiple square tables scattered across the room, and they were spaced far enough apart to provide a comfortable experience. The counter spanned across the entire left side of the room, and a pretty good selection of ice cream was on the right side of the counter, while pastries were displayed in a shiny case on the left. A friendly looking elderly woman was behind the counter, and he assumed she was the Rose who the shop was partially named after. She wore a soft smile on her face, and her presence seemed to add to the comforting atmosphere of the shop.

"Hi Damian, I see you've brought a friend with you this time?" the woman asked, slightly leaning on the counter.

"Tt. He's not my friend." Damian scoffed.

Tim walked up to her and stuck out a hand. He was a good height for his age, so reaching over the counter didn't provide much difficulty. Secretly, Tim took pleasure in the fact that it would be hard for Damian.

"Hello Ma'am. I'm Timothy Drake, it's a pleasure to meet you."

She laughed, and reached out her hand to return his greeting.

"Well you're a polite one aren't you?" she asked, grin still on her face.

Tim dropped his hand and shrugged.

"I try."

"So if you're not friends, what are you?"

Damian was waiting by a door that Tim assumed lead to the kitchen, but he answered anyway and Tim winced.

"He's just another stray that my father decided to adopt. Now come along Drake, you're wasting time."

Suddenly much of the chatter from the parlors patrons quieted, and Tim wanted to tell Damian off so bad he could taste it. That, however, would cause a scene, so he just balled his fists and moved towards Damian.

"So you two are brothers then?" she asked.

Neither one of the looked back, and they spoke at the same time.

"He is not my brother."

Tim followed Damian through a kitchen that smelled like sugar and butter, and then watched as Damian pulled open a door on the opposite side of the kitchen. The entrance opened to a flight of stairs, and Tim trailed after Damian as he went up them. The steps ended at a cozy room, where an African American woman and what looked to be her daughter were seated and watching TV.

Tim hung back and observed as the girl noticed Damian's entrance and jumped up to greet him. Her skin was lighter than her mother's, so he assumed she was mixed, and she had tiny glasses and freckles. Her wild hair was up in a ponytail, and she was barefoot in basketball shorts and a hulk t shirt. Tim didn't miss the irony.

"So what exactly are we painting on your wall?" he heard Damian ask. At that, his eyebrows rose.

"Wait, we're painting?"

For what seemed like the first time, the girl, Rowan, and her Mom noticed him.

They both stared at him, and he found himself feeling awkward.

"Er, hi. I'm Tim. Tim Drake. I'm uh, Bruce adopted me." He found himself saying. Well, that was smooth. But he'd figured he might as well get the 'who are you' out of the way before a repeat of downstairs happened.

"Hello." Rowan said, wide eyes blinking. She looked a bit weary of him, and he had the distinct feeling she was using Damian as a human shield.

"Well okay," the woman said, "I'm Rowan's Mama, Miranda Chase. You can call me Aunty if you want."

"Uh, okay."

Tim didn't know how he felt about that. He looked towards Rowan, and he saw that her wide brown eyes were on him.

"We can chain him out back if you want. We don't even have to leave him a bone or a bowl of water if it's inconvenient for you." Damian said casually.

"Damian!" Miranda said, trying to sound admonishing, but ruining it with her thinly veiled laughter.

Tim scrubbed his face and focused on Rowan.

"I swear we don't raise him to be this vicious."

She smiled at him, and he noticed that the action brought out the dimples on her childish face.

"That's okay. Come on." And she began walking down a short hallway to her left, Damian at her heels.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"So what exactly are do you want us to do?"

Rowan smiled, she couldn't help herself. Damian was going to be so irritated. Instead of answering right away, she waited until they were at her door before pointing at the giant leafless tree on her wall.

"We're gonna draw rainbow leaves."

The looks on their faces were things of beauty.

"You don't expect us to draw them all by hand do you?" Damian asked, disbelief on his face.

Rowan just laughed and nodded.

"Well that explains why you wanted us here so early." Tim muttered.

"She only wanted me here. You just tagged along like the lost little mutt you are." Damian snapped sour expression still on his face.

Rowan just sighed at the insult; she was used to Damian's meanness by now. Tim, however, took it to heart. . To be honest Rowan didn't really mind, but it was obvious Damian did. She figured that there had to be some underlying things going on there.

"You're calling me a mutt? You rabid little shi-"

"Aye!" Rowan's Mama yelled from the living room, "Watch your language!"

The tip of Tim's ears went pink.

"Sorry!" he yelled back.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked over to the paint sitting by Rowan's wall, steadily avoiding Damian as he did so. He picked up one of the thinner paint brushes, and turned to Rowan.

"I'm not much of an artist, but I can try a few leaves if you want."

Rowan smiled at him, and nodded. She began walking over, stopping to latch onto Damian's shirt to pull him with her. He pulled her hand away roughly, but Rowan just ignored him and grabbed back on. Once they reached her wall, she picked up a paint brush and wrapped Damian's hand around it.

After making sure he wasn't going to drop it, she picked up her own and dipped it in the can of purple paint, then started on a leaf. She watched as slowly, her tree came to life, leaf by leaf. Eventually, she glanced towards Tim. He was working on his sixth or seventh leaf, and when he caught her looking he turned and smiled. Rowan smiled back and turned towards Damian.

While he was painting, he didn't look particularly happy about it. She assumed that he was still angry about Tim, and she didn't much like it. In a split decision that she'd probably regret later, she dipped her brush in her paint, then swiped it across Damian's cheek.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, green eyes flashing.

Rowan simply blinked at him, then turned back towards her wall to start on another leaf. She'd just started the first swoop when she felt a wet blob dripping down her cheek. She jumped, and wiped at her face. Her hand came away covered in green paint.

Rowan met Damian's eyes and saw the mischief in them.

"You really want to start this?" she asked, one tiny eyebrow raised.

He smirked at her, so she dipped her fingers in paint and flicked them at him. He dodged, and picked up one of the thicker brushes to completely paint her other cheek. She squeaked as the slimy liquid stuck to her skin and filled her nose with the sharp smell of house paint. This time, she dipped her entire hand and moved to get Damian, who'd moved to her other side.

Tim, who it appeared had been so quiet in an attempt to muffle his laugh, instead got paint smeared across his front. His laughter stopped, and he stared back at her with wide blue eyes. Rowan froze, and stared at him.

"I'm sorr-" she was silenced by the glob of blue paint Tim managed to hit her square in the chest with.

She gasped, and used both hands to get a glob of her own. She chucked it, and Damian, now standing by Tim, managed to get stained with purple too.

Both boys jumped, and Tim started laughing.

"Oh it is on." He said, flinging paint at her.

She laughed, and threw some back. As paint flew around her, Rowan couldn't help but feel accomplished. They were having fun.

Tim went to throw another blob at her, but for once, Rowan managed to move fast enough and she zipped behind Damian. To her chagrin, Damian twisted around and picked her up, holding her in place as he dipped both of their hands and red paint and shoved them in Tim's face.

Tim yelped, and picked up the orange paint and splashed the entire can at them. Both Rowan and Damian were now nearly dripping, and he dropped her. She rolled out of his way as he pushed Tim against the wall and dumped pink paint over his head.

Tim shoved Damian back and tried to keep paint from his eyes. Luckily for him, his bangs kept the paint mostly away. The pink paint over his hair made him look mostly like a drowned rat, and it had Rowan in stitches on the ground.

When her laughter died down, however, Rowan noticed that both the boys had gone silent. She looked up, and she was met with two weary gazes.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Damian answered first.

"Drake ruined your wall."

"You little liar! I did not!"

"You left a handprint-"

"You pushed me-"

"You threw paint-"

"We all threw paint!"

Rowan watched them go back and forth, and took note about how close they were getting and how their muscles were tensing. She decided to interject before they could start world war 3.

"It's okay!"

They both stopped and turned towards her. She took a deep breath, and scrambled to her feet. She walked over to her wall, and she could see what they were talking about. Right on a branch, there was a hot pink hand print. For just a second, she was disheartened, but then she got an idea.

She pressed her hand on top of Tim's hand print, glanced back, and then continued to make handprints using whatever paint that happened to be on her body. After a second, the boys caught on. Tim was to her left, and Damian was to her right.

"Are you sure this is alright?" Tim asked hesitantly after a minute.

"Yup. It looks cool." She said, laughing softly.

Damian hummed in agreement, and she turned to see him staring at Tim's first handprint, now filled with her own.

"You have really small hands." He stated.

Rowan shrugged, then found one of Damian's prints and placed her paint covered hand over it. Though Damian was younger than Tim, his hand was still bigger than Rowan's. Both boys dwarfed her, but it didn't bother her much.

"You two want to see if you can stay the night?" she asked after a while.

Tim looked surprised, but Damian just nodded.

"Your Mom will let us?" Tim asked.

Rowan looked at him in confusion.

"Why wouldn't she?"

Tim's ears one again turned pink, but Rowan decided to let it slide. Besides, she had to think about how they were going to make this work. She'd only ever had Damian over, and they were going to need more blankets. And more food. Always more food.


	4. Chapter 4

Rowan's always loved the holidays. Lots of food, lots of love, and lots of presents. A good time all around.

So it was for this very reason that she just couldn't understand why Damian was surly when they came around. She goaded him left and right, but he never gave her a straight answer. Eventually, she let it go. That is, until her Mama came to her room on Thanksgiving Eve, saying she had a call from Tim.

She took the phone, almost looking half as confused as she felt, and answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey Rowan. Normally I'd ask you how you've been and everything, but I'm actually calling because we have a bit of a problem."

Rowan was still confused.

"Uh, okay."

"Have you seen Damian today?" he asked, sounded absolutely exhausted.

"Um, no. Is he missing?"

Rowan knew Damian could take care of himself, but she was still a bit worried.

Tim sighed.

"In a way. He threw a tantrum and stormed off about two hours ago. I wouldn't worry about him too much."

"Have you called Colin?" she asked. A few months ago Damian met the ginger kid. She'd never met him, but Damian mentioned him every now and again. She figured since he didn't sound annoyed when he did so, that he might have gone wherever Colin was. She sincerely doubted he was with Lian, Irey, or Jai. (Not to say he wasn't fond of them, in his own way. He just got annoyed with them far to quickly.)

"You know who Colin is?" he asked, sounding surprised, "Wait, never mind. We already called him. He's not there. Look, thanks for your help. I think we're going to have to comb the town for him. Not that the little asshole's worth it."

The last part was mumbled, and Rowan didn't think she was meant to hear it.

Rowan frowned. While he hadn't come to her, she had a few ideas as to where he might have gone.

"Um, I think I might know some places he might be."

"Really? Where? The quicker we get him home the less time we have to waste feeding into his over-the-top behavior."

Tim sounded pissed, and Rowan just knew that if Tim found Damian first, there was going to be a fight.

"Uh, how about, I uh, show you?" she asked hesitantly.

"Are you sure? It's getting late."

"Gimme a sec."

Rowan glanced at her clock, and then put her hand over the bottom of the phone. It was about 7:34.

Luckily, her Mama was standing at her door so she didn't have to shout.

"They can't find Damian, can I help them?"

Her Mama gave her a look.

"It's dark out babe. And what is Damian even doing out? I don't think I like this. I don't know if I want-"

Rowan knew this looked bad, and she knew where her Mama was going with this.

"Mama! Please? You know Damian's not bad, he's just…"

Her Mama snorted.

"A pain in the ass? Yah, I know."

Rowan winced. Well, her Mama wasn't exactly wrong.

"But Mama…"

Her Mama looked at her, and as she did so, her gaze seemed to soften.

"One hour. That's all you get. And if this becomes a habit, I promise you there's gonna be a problem."

Rowan smiled, and gave her Mama a hug. She picked took her hand off of the speaker to tell Tim the news.

"My Mama said it's fine."

"Well okay… Dick's driving. We'll be by in a few minutes."

"…Kay…" she said, staring at her lap.

She was just wearing a t shirt, and she should probably put on some pants.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Tim was done. He was done with constantly arguing with Damian, he was done with always having to watch his back, he was done listening to his friends and family getting constantly insulted, and he was  _completely_  done with Damian's constant bullshit. If he had it his way, they'd leave Damian on the street to rot.

But it wasn't up to him, so now they were on their way to pick up Rowan. Who Tim still didn't understand. Who in their right mind would hang out with a homicidal asshole like Damian?

Still fuming, Tim didn't notice that they'd pulled up to Rowan's home until Dick nudged him.

"Switch places with Stephanie. Rowan knows you better and she's already really shy."

Tim did as he was told, and as he left the car he noticed Rowan waiting at one of the tables with her Mother.

' _Oh that's right,'_ Tim thought, _' 9 year olds with odd food obsessions and glasses.'_

As Tim waved her over, Stephanie slipped out of the back seat. For what seemed like the millionth time that night, Tim was struck by how beautiful she was. God, he couldn't believe this girl was his girlfriend.

She greeted Rowan with a hug, and Tim took note of how much the girl tensed.

"Oh aren't you adorable. It's a good thing you're wearing a hoodie, it looks like it's going to rain." Stephanie's comments had Rowan blushing and shuffling awkwardly, so Tim decided to hurry things along.

"Come on, let's hurry up before it actually does start raining. Rowan you can sit in the back with me."

She nodded, and slipped into the car after waving at her Mother. Tim climbed in after her, and Stephanie took the front seat. After they were all settled in, Stephanie turned around.

"You already know Tim and Dick, but we've never met. I'm Stephanie, Tim's girlfriend."

When Stephanie said girlfriend, Dick chuckled and Tim could feel the tips of his ears go hot.

Dick chuckled, and turned towards Rowan as well.

"So where exactly are we going?"

Rowan seemed to wilt under their combined gazes, and she began fiddling with one of the strings on her hoodie. As she did so, the rain began to pick up outside.

"Can we, uh, go by Gotham City Park first?"

Dick raised his eyebrows.

"You think he'd be at a park?"

She shrugged.

"Well okay I guess."

Rose's sweet treats was near the center of the city, right where the park was. It took them only a matter of minutes before they arrived, with idle chatter between Dick and Stephanie to fill the silence. When the park was in sight, Dick slowed.

"Rowan, you can stay in the car with Tim while Steph and I look for Damian. Is that okay?"

She turned form where she'd been staring out the window to look at Dick.

"No."

"No?" Dick asked, amusement coloring his voice.

"If he's here, he'll just be walking along the outer edge of the park. It's easier just to drive."

Tim was skeptical.

"You're sure about this?"

She simply hummed her approval and turned back towards her window. The side she was on put her closer to the sidewalk, so she had a better view than him. Tim settled back into his seat, and prepared for yet another wild goose chase.

That is, until Steph spotted Damian trudging ahead of them, side nearly grazing the low wall bordering the park. Dick sped up and rolled down Stephanie's window.

"Dami! Come on, get in. We're going home."

Tim sighed at Dick's exclamation. There was no way Damian was going to come with them. And he was right, because Damian simply continued walking, completely ignoring them.

"He's not going to come with us, he's too stubborn." Tim said, deciding to put in his two cents.

Stephanie, however, was not ready to accept that.

"Come on Damian! Stop being so stubborn! You're acting childish!"

At that, Damian finally looked at them, sneer on his face.

"The only childish one is you, shouting out a window like some kind of heathen. Just go home Fatgirl. "

Dick, ever the coddler, decided to try a different approach.

"Come on Dami, we're all going to miss you at Thanksgiving."

"Not all of us." Steph muttered sarcastically.

Damian walked faster.

"Um, can you stop the car please?" Tim almost missed Rowan's voice, quiet as she was.

Dick glanced back, but didn't say a word as he stopped. Once he pulled over, he turned around.

"Is something wrong?"

Rowan looked uncomfortable, and she was shifting in her seat.

"Ah, no. I think, well I think I can convince him. Can you just stay here for a minute please?"

And then she was out of the car and running towards Damian, heedless of the pouring rain.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She was very very cold, and very very wet, and very very tired of running because wow Damian was farther away then she thought. Rowan knew Damian could hear her running since every step she took made the puddles on the ground splash and the sound echoed across the empty streets. However, she also knew that Damian was probably expecting Tim, Dick, or even Stephanie.

Though she wanted to sneak up on him more than anything, she knew better, so she made sure he knew it was her before she reached him.

"Damian!"

He didn't jump, but he did tense and stop. He turned around just as she reached him. She stopped in front of him, doubled over and gasping for breath. The rain was coming down harder than ever, and she was absolutely freezing. On top of that, she just knew her hair wouldn't dry for hours. And It was going to be a monster to comb out.

"You're so out of shape it's disgusting." he said, face void of emotion.

She ignored his comment and looked up at him, wiping the rain from her glasses. It didn't help much since the rain was coming down so fast.

"They called me you know, they're worried about you." She said, trying to reason with him.

"Tt. I should have known you were in the car. There's no other way they would have found me. Go home Rowan." And with that, he turned back around and began walking.

Pulling a face, Rowan followed after him. She grasped his arm, hardly taking note of the wet squish of his jacket, and used him as leverage to pull herself up on the short stone wall beside him. She kept her hand on his shoulder, knowing he wouldn't protest. After realizing how short of a walk it was to the park, they'd made it a habit of going every time he'd come and there'd been acceptable daylight left. She'd often walk on the wall while he walked beside her. Though Damian was angry, tonight was no different. Besides, she couldn't see and she didn't want to fall and crack her skull open.

Rowan simply walked for a few minutes, hoping that his anger at her would wash away with the rain. And she knew he was angry. Eventually, Rowan decided that it would be best to speak. And with Damian, she would need to be direct.

"Damian, why won't you go home?"

She couldn't really see his face because her glasses were pretty much useless by now, but she just knew he was scowling.

"You wouldn't understand."

Rowan thought about his words. Then she thought about her family: Mama, and her Father, and her Gran, and her sisters, and Grandmother.

"Try me." She said softly.

"Why, so you can go back and report to my  _brothers._ "

The way he said the word 'brother' made her realize something.

"You know I don't always get along with my sisters either."

Damian gave her a sideways glance.

"You have sisters?"

Rowan nodded.

"Half-sisters. They're twins, from my Father."

"You call him Father?"

"Well what else would I call him?"

Damian stopped, and looked at her. Really  _looked._  And Rowan stared back, wondering what exactly he was looking for. It seemed, however, that he found it, because suddenly he opened up.

"It's not fair." He said, all of a sudden looking angry again. And maybe, if she wasn't imagining it, he looked a little hurt.

"What's not fair?"

"My Father, he doesn't need  _them._  He has me. Yet he has them all coming over for Thanksgiving. It's ridiculous."

Rowan was confused for a second, but then she realized.

"Are you… Are you talking about your brothers?"

Suddenly he twisted from under her grip, and she almost slipped.

"They are  _not_  my brothers! They're strays that my Father picked up off the street! Now that he has me, his  _actual_ son, he doesn't need them!"

Rowan stood, stupefied at Damian's outburst. Rowan knew that Damian had lived with his Mother until he was about 8, while the rest of Bruce's children had been with him for longer. She also knew he didn't get along with them, but this…

"Are you  _jealous_?" she couldn't really say the stupid word, but it got her point across. Besides, as angry as he was, she figured Damian wouldn't pick on her for not being able to pronounce the word  _right at that second._  She knew she was going to get an earful later though.

He looked shocked, angry, and confused all at the same time.

"I am _not_  jealous."

Rowan just shook her head, and moved on.

"Damian they're your family. You know your Dad loves you, but just because he loves you, doesn't mean he can't love them too."

"But-"

"But  _nothing._  Damian if everyone was only allowed to care about one person, how do you think the world would be? My Gran cares about my Mama, does that mean that she's not allowed to love me too? And if it's the fact that they're adopted that you're worried about, then I hope you realize that my Gran adopted my Mama. There's nothing wrong with it Damian…" While Rowan's rant had started off strong, she trailed off until a near whisper at the end.

Damian had calmed significantly, but she just knew that he was still going to be a butt about the whole thing.

"But we don't get along. And he invited  _everyone._  Even Jason."

Rowan didn't know who Jason was, but he wasn't important right now.

"Damian, I'm pretty sure that  _you're_ the one who doesn't get along with everyone. And I'm also pretty sure they know that. Look, can you please… Can you please just try? I mean if you really can't handle it, you can… Um…." What could he do? Oh!

"You can come to my house? Just, please?" Rowan suddenly felt even smaller than she was, and she twisted up her hands in her hoodie. The action wrung cold water from the cloth, and it made her wince.

Damian looked at her skeptically.

"If I do this, and I get fed up with their foolery, I can come to your house anytime?"

Rowan continued to twist her jacket, and nodded enthusiastically.

"Tt. Fine.

And with that, he turned around and began the walk back to the car. Rowan got off the wall and ran behind him. Man, she sure was doing a lot of running tonight.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

After Thanksgiving, Rowan is in complete bliss. She'd managed to eat six slices of ham, three helpings of mac and cheese, and two slices of pecan pie. She's full, in a warm bed, and her flashlight has full batteries so that she can read waaay past her bedtime. It's an absolutely perfect night.

That is until she's half asleep over a book and she starts hearing noises from her window at 3 AM. She immediately turns off her flashlight and scoots herself against her wall. She wants to scream, but she's afraid that if she does she might get hurt, so she keeps quiet and stays as still as possible. She can feel her heart beating double time, and she curls herself into a ball. And when  _Robin_  climbs through her window? Well, she nearly has a heart attack at 9 years old.

It's dark in her room, but she can see vague movements, so she watches as he drops his sword, takes off his cape, and goes through her dresser and pulls out a t shirt. She continues to do so as he takes off the top part of his armor and replaces it with said shirt. She absentmindedly thinks that his build looks familiar once his only slightly bulky armor is gone, but she continues to stay silent. When he takes off his mask and turns towards her though? That's when she falls to her side in pure shock and lets out a sound that sounds loosely like the words 'what' and 'eh' combined.

"You sound like a dying whale." Damian states as he folds his discarded uniform neatly.

"Whaat?" is all she manages to get out because her mind is  _absolutely blown._  And so many things make  _sense_ now.

"You said I could come over any time." He says casually, as if he isn't  _the_ frickin' boy wonder.

And then he scoots her aside, picks up her discarded flashlight and book, and reads on her bed like he didn't just make her doubt the reality of her entire 9 year old life.

But.

' _At least now the fact that he's an 11 year old with abs makes sense.'_

 


	5. Chapter 5

The most unfortunate side effect to having a friend who is both female and two years younger, as Damian learns during his twelfth year, is the fact that because of their respective biological differences, they both started puberty at about the same time.

Now, despite this, their dynamic only shifted rather than completely change. It was subtle, no words were exchanged. But Damian noticed.

Rowan's room, which had always been dominated by t shirts, sharpies, and sneakers, now sported new additions of things like deodorant and bras. Miranda now insisted that they keep the door open whenever he was over. (He'd made no protest to this, but he also continued to visit some nights after patrol. While Rowan's Mother was fairly easy going, he would never tell her this.) Rowan's book/movie shelf evolved and now included romance titles. And lastly, Rowan no longer put her head, hands, arms, or any part of her torso near his lap.(For obvious reasons.)

Of course, none of this dissuaded them from their late nights, or movie marathons. It did, however, mean that Damian had begun to show a slight interest in the opposite sex. Or at least, his body had.

So it was that nearly 5 months after his twelfth birthday, Damian found himself with a girlfriend. This, besides the fact that Tim had started avoiding him like the plague about a month earlier, was just about the only thing that made his age less awkward. She was aesthetically pleasing, and she wasn't  _completely_  inept at fighting, but he was still far superior to Lian. He was rather disappointed that once they'd started dating, she'd changed, however. She became clingy, and he was loathe to say, slightly possessive. He had to give her credit, though, she was lucky to be dating him. He'd be possessive if he was in her position as well.

And Rowan found this absolutely hilarious.

"It's not funny!" he'd snapped at her one day.

" _Damian_. You tried to kiss Lian and she  _bit you._  How is that not funny?" she'd said, looking at him over the rim of her glasses.

"You wouldn't be laughing if it'd been you she'd bit."

"Why in the world would I be kissing Lian in the first place?"

Damian chose to ignore the wave of anger that image brought.

"Who said anything about kissing her?"

"Well I thought-"

"Don't  _assume_  anything. You're far too naïve for that."

She'd looked at him incredulously, and Damian had thought that the expression was misplaced on her 10 year old face.

"Are you forgetting that you're only 2 years older than me?"

"Tt, I might as well be 10 years older for all the difference there is between you and me."

"Pft, so you're 22 and hanging out with a 10 year old? Someone's a pedo." She'd said, giggling at him.

He'd glared at her.

"I am  _not_ a pedophile."

She'd simply smiled and wrinkled her little nose at him.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The first time Rowan really thinks about puberty is when her Mama takes her out bra shopping one April and instead of a training bra she comes home with a large A cup and a very weary Mama.

"I foresee large boobies and back problems in your future baby." She'd said jokingly once she realized that Rowan was already in the cup sizes. Rowan had just laughed, but she'd been slightly worried when her Mama hadn't said much of anything else for the rest of the day.

And it turned out she was right to worry because the moment she got home, her Mama made her call Damian and tell him he couldn't come over that day, and then sat her down with a serious look.

"Have you guys gone over family life at school yet?"

And that was the moment that Rowan officially knew the rest of her day was going to be horrible.

"Um, yes."

Her Mama had nodded and crossed her legs.

"And what did you guys talk about?"

It was there that Rowan had to pause and think. Yes they had talked about….things… in class. But, there was also the little fact that Rowan may or may not have gotten into her Mama's book shelf at some point and found a few of her books that weren't exactly from the kids section. Being the miniature bookworm that she was, she proceeded to read said books. And then she went to the library and got more. Now, it was fair to say, she knew just a  _bit_  more than was probably appropriate for her age.

"Um… We learned about periods, and um the difference between girl and boy parts, and body changes, and… stuff." Yah, that sounded about right.

Her Mama sat there, amused by Rowan's skittishness for a second before speaking.

"So you know that it's normal that you got your period right?"

At this, Rowan nodded.

"You know to just keep doing what you've been doing and tell me if anything changes, right?"

Try not to be grossed out?

"I have to just keep using… Pads right?" because yeah, tampons sounded uncomfortable.

"Yup, if that's what you want."

Rowan nodded, and tried not to fidget too much under her Mama's gaze.

"Okay, and we already went bra shopping. We got you some deodorant. And baby, and baby you know where your pads are, right?"

Rowan nodded once again, blushing.

"I got some different sized ones for you, just in case. If it happens, they're the unopened pack. If they're not good enough, we can get you some different ones. Just tell me when it happens okay? Even if it's in the middle of the night. For the first few months your period's going to be weird."

Again, Rowan nodded. She let out a breath, thinking it was over. She went to get up, but then her Mama stopped her.

"Woah, we're not quite done, Ro. "

Curious and apprehensive about what her Mama could want now, she sat back down, folding her legs under her on the couch.

"I know Damian and Tim are your best friends,"

Rowan's face screwed up in horror, and she couldn't help her mental anguish.

' _Nooooooooooooooooooooooo.'_

"But things are probably gonna be a little different now, okay?"

Wanting to get away from this horrible conversation, Rowan got up, ready to bolt.

"Rowan, sit down  _please_. I know this is awkward, but you've got to listen for now. I'll  _tell_  you when you can leave."

Rowan let out a sound of distress, and fell back on the couch. She pulled out her ponytail and let her hair fall in her face so that she could have some small shield from everything.

"Look, Damian's getting older too. And Tim's already a few years older, and he's about to get his Soul Marks soon too, right?"

"Yeaaaah, I know." She mumbled, desperately wanting to slam her face into the wall.

"And they're cute kids, right?"

Rowan wrinkled her brow at this.

"I guess…" Damian was, in an angry puppy dog kind of way. Tim was more like a happy kitten.

"Do you, by any chance, have a crush on one of them?"

Rowan's had snapped up at that, and her eyes went wide.

" _What?_ "

"Well-"

" _NO._ Mama, they're my best friends!"

Her Mama was smiling again, but Rowan didn't see how any of this could  _possibly_ be funny.

"Okay, okay. Yeesh, I was just checking. But, hear me out, Tim's 13, and Damian is getting older to. I just want you to tell me if they do  _anything_  to make you uncomfortable-"

At this, Rowan got angry. She jumped up and nearly shouted.

" _They're not like that_."

Her Mama's face showed surprise, and she leaned back at the conviction in Rowan's voice. Startled by her own outburst, Rowan sat back down, face red.

"They're not… They're my friends okay? We watch movies, and eat food, and we talk and we have fun. Tim and Damian wouldn't do anything to hurt me." Her voice was soft, and she'd neglected to mention all the bruises she had from Damian picking her up, but that was different. That was playing, and Damian was a lot stronger than he looked. It was a side effect of having a playmate that was bigger, and stronger than you. Also she didn't mention how sometimes Tim ended up emailing her on the IPod she got for her birthday(Because she has a small addiction to music.) at random hours when she's supposed to be asleep. It's not his fault that he goes places with time differences.

Finally, her Mama nodded, apparently letting the entire thing go.

"Okay, but you know I'm always here. There's just one more thing we need to talk about, okay?"

Deciding that whatever it was couldn't get any worse, she dipped her head in acceptance.

"You learned about Soul Marks too, right?"

"Yeah."

Rowan knew a little bit, and she also knew her Mama didn't really talk about them much, unlike other people.

"I know a lot of people make a big deal about them and everything, but I want you to know that they're not everything." Rowan's Mama had to stop there. She took a deep breath, and Rowan got the distinct feeling that she was fighting back tears.

"Soul Marks are complicated things, Ro. Just because you have one , it doesn't mean there's always going to be a happy ending okay? So I don't want you to think that on your 14th birthday, you have to devote everything to your mate. Can you promise me that?"

Rowan thought about it for a second. She thought about her Gran, and all the stories she told about her Grandpa. They'd met when they'd both were 24, and were together nearly 44 years before his heart gave out. Rowan was only 2 when he passed, and she barely remembered him. But she did remember how in love her Gran in Grandpa were. Especially since to this day, her Gran still celebrates their anniversary.

And then she thought about her Mama, who she knew had a Soul Mark. Yet Miranda, in all of her liveliness, never spoke of it at all.

"Yeah."

Her Mama smiled, but it was somehow sad.

"Okay little one, you're free. Fly my pretty." She said, shooing her away.

Rowan got up, and made to walk to her room. Before she left, however, she had to know one thing.

"Mama? My Dad, was he…"

The look in her Mama's eyes hurt, because Rowan wasn't used to seeing the strong woman looking so broken.

"Yes. Yes, he was."

And with that, Rowan returned to her room. A lot of things made sense now. And she had a lot to think about.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

At 2:12 am, when her window slides up and a boy decked out in black , red, green, and yellow slips through her window, Rowan isn't the least bit startled. Nor is she alarmed when the side of her bed she is not on dips and the flashlight she had been using to read is pulled from her hands.

Damian speaks before she even has time to register the fact that her flashlight is now being spun in complicated patterns between ambidextrous hands. Rowan, however, is momentarily entranced by the miniature lightshow, and she almost doesn't hear him.

"What happened today?"

She'd been expecting the question, because in the time they'd known each other, neither one of them had ever canceled a visit. Despite this, however, Rowan was not entirely willing to tell him what her mother had wanted to talk about. This, though, did not mean that she was going to lie to him.

"My Mama just wanted to talk to me about stuff."

She'd hardly expected her answer to be good enough for Damian, and she was right.

"What kind of 'stuff'?"

Rowan frowned, and hoped that Damian couldn't see her expression. There was  _no way_ that she was going to tell him everything. But… She  _could_  just say they talked about Soul Marks. Which was absolutely true.

"Mama just wanted to talk to me about Soul Marks." Rowan said, desperately hopping Damian would let her leave it at that.

Rowan was still as she watched the emotions flit over Damian's face: indifference, surprise, and finally curiousness.

"What was there to talk about? Aren't they just marks that supposedly tell you who your soul mate is?"

Rowan smiled at the infliction he put on the word 'supposedly'. They hadn't ever really talked about it, but now that she thought about it, she could tell that Damian wasn't exactly against the idea of someone who would truly love him.

Damian may have tried to hide it, but Rowan could tell just how affection starved he was. It was… Odd, in a way. Damian was always looking for approval, albeit he only cared about it from his father or Richard. Despite this, Damian was so stuck in his ways that it often baffled her. He was  _very_ opinionated, often times rude, and she would be lying through her teeth if she said he wasn't volatile. She knew this, and yet she also knew that in his own way, he tried.

Even as young as she was, Rowan could see that as the fifth to take on the mantle of Robin, Damian had a lot to live up too. He was constantly trying to surpass his predecessors, while at the same time his personality made it all the harder.

She had to give it to his family though, as odd as they were, they were exactly what he needed. Bruce gave him something to strive for, and he  _was_  Damian's father. As guarded as the man was, he loved Damian in his own way. Dick, although he really was a bit overenthusiastic, gave Damian as much love and affection as he possibly could. Jason, as much as it hurt her to say it, was a sort of reminder to Damian as to what could happen to him if he wasn't careful.

And lastly, Tim kept Damian occupied. The description probably didn't accurately describe their relationship, but in a way, it was true. They were constantly at each other's necks, each constantly trying to one up the other. Sometimes, it worried her, but she supposed as long as nobody got hurt they were okay. Well, she shouldn't say that, because it was inevitable that one of them would get hurt. Damian kind of had a thing for violence. As long as no one died they were fine.

All in all, she could see why the idea of someone caring for him despite his flaws appealed to him so greatly. Though he never told her in words, Rowan knew that before he lived with his father, he wasn't exactly shown much compassion, and now that he had it, she knew that he would do anything to keep it.

So instead of telling him about her parents, she simply shrugged and laid back down. Whatever he thought about Soul Marks was his business. She wouldn't pollute his opinion with hers.

However, as she lay on her side, eyes trained steadily on her bedroom wall, she was curious.

"Damian? What do you think you're soul mate will be like?" Damian was two years older than her, and he'd get his mark first.

Comfortable in her position, Rowan stayed still as Damian adjusted behind her until he'd scooted farther onto her bed, his back against the wall and Rowan's legs settled in his lap. Her pajama bottoms had risen up her calves, and the sturdy material of his pants was cool against her skin.

"He or she will be strong of course, and smart. We'll be equal in every way."

His voice was familiar, and his presence only added to her comfort. Rowan found herself drifting, and eventually her eyes began to droop closed. She had trouble sleeping most of the time, but whenever Damian came for a visit, she felt… Safe. If Tim were here, she'd probably never even feel the need to wake up.

Just as the comforting blankness of sleep stole her under, she managed to just barely hear Damian speaking.

"What do you think yours will be like?"

She felt herself let out an unintelligible murmur, but her thoughts were clear as day inside her mind.

' _They'll make me happy, like you and Tim.'_

 


	6. Chapter 6

Rowan doesn't quite know what's going on with Tim and Damian, but she knows there is something there. And it's not their normal destructive bullshit either.

Pretty soon after his 14th birthday, Tim had gone to live with the Titans. She's happy for him, but of course that didn't stop her from missing him. They still emailed every day, but it was different. As odd as it was, she missed watching her best bros bicker every time they visited her. (Which had been a lot.) Tim and Damian's relationship entertained her to no end, especially since they graduated from outright hatred to a sort of comfortable, (Yet no less intense.) rivalry.

Her only consolation was the fact that she still had Damian. The surly boy visited her multiple times a week, unless his role as Robin took up more time than usual. While she enjoyed his visits, she did miss Tim. In his own way, Damian did as well.

Sure, he made comments about how much better things were now that 'Drake' was out of the house, but she could see straight through that. Damian missed having someone to take out all of his pent up aggression on, and he was confused as to why Tim was avoiding him.

And Tim  _was_  avoiding him. Like the freaking plague. Tim never asked about Damian in their emails, and when they talked on the phone, the normally fluent boy practically mangled his words in an attempt to steer the conversation away from anything Damian related.

The one time Tim had come home for the weekend, he'd spent all his time in places he knew Damian wouldn't be. Namely, far away from her. She'd been extremely disappointed when she'd found out, and hadn't been placated by Tim's half assed apology.

After thinking about his odd behavior, Rowan had come to a vague conclusion as to what might be happening, but she had to be sure before she said anything. It was for that very reason that she'd made Tim promise to come visit her.

He hadn't specified  _when_  this visit would be, though. So the months flew by, and Rowan began to miss her friend more and more. As school began, and students began settling into monotonous schedules, ghouls and witches began to pop up in the media, and Rowan knew what she was going to do.

After school one day, Rowan came home, smile on her face and settled on her couch. It was a little late for her to do this, with only a week left in the month, but she'd get it done. She took out her phone, and began the first step of her plan: Spamming him with text messages.

'Tim.'

She waited a few minutes. But there was no reply. She hardly expected one, but if she wanted him to call her back in a timely manner, she was going to have to do this.

'Tim. Call me.'

Five minutes.

'Dude I know ur distracted with ur hot boyfriend, but spare a few minutes 4 me will ya.'

Tim would know who she was referring to, and he would be mortified that she knew about his crush. She grinned. Ten minutes.

'Tiiiiiim.'

Twenty minutes passed by, and she filled the time with homework.

'Timothy Jackson Drake.'

40 minutes. She was long done with her homework, and on to a new book she'd been meaning to read for a while. It was the first in a series by the author J.R Ward. So far, it had been pretty good.

'Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne'

About an hour had gone by. Her Mama had come home a few minutes ago, and she'd had to hide her book before she saw it. The cover wasn't exactly innocent looking, and the author was a popular one.

'I miss your face.'

It was nearly two hours before she got a reply, and the sun had nearly set. She'd already brushed her teeth and hopped in bed, door closed and book in her hands.

'Only my face?'

Rowan smiled, and dialed his number.

"Yup. Your face when that picture of Superboy shirtless showed up on my dash was beautiful."

Tim groaned and Rowan snickered at his pain.

"I was just surprised. He'd probably kill the person who took that if he knew it was online."

Rowan rolled her eyes. She'd been on her new Tumblr last year when a picture some paparazzi had taken of one of Tim's team mates at the beach had popped up. The guy hadn't been wearing a shirt, and Rowan had found herself blushing at the display of skin. Tim and Damian had been in the room at the time, and both boys had turned her computer around to see what had her face hot.

Damian had simply scoffed, but Tim's gaze had lingered for just a little too long, and Rowan hadn't missed the way he'd flushed.

"Mhm. Anyway, Halloween's almost here."

Rowan almost drooled at the thought of all the candy.

"I know. You're trying not to drool right now aren't you?" Tim laughed.

Rowan pulled a face and tried not to be embarrassed by his accuracy.

"Shuddup," she mumbled.

"You know it's true."

Rowan fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him, since he wouldn't be there to see it.

"Shhh. You're coming with me."

"Coming with you where?" He asked, amusement in his voice.

"Trick or treating. You're coming with me."

As she'd expected, he immediately tried to worm his way out of it.

"Rowan I'm so busy here I-"

"You are coming with me. You promised to come and see me, and we both know you haven't taken a day off in months."

"Rowan.."

Rowan felt her stomach drop. He didn't sound as convinced as she'd hoped he would be.

"Pleeeaassee." She tried in one last attempt.

After a few seconds, he sighed.

"I don't have a costume..."

Rowan refrained from commenting on the fact that he wore a skin tight suite and mask every night, and instead focused on getting him to visit her.

"Don't worry about it. I've got you covered."

"Ro, are you sure?"

"Yup, just make sure you're here on October 31st, I've got the rest."

Rowan chewed her bottom lip silently as she waited for Tim to answer.

"Fine, just know I can't stay long."

Rowan threw her fist up in celebration, and said goodbye. She scrambled out of her bed, and went to find her Gran. They had some serious costume planning ahead of them.

Tim had no idea what to expect when he came back to Gotham on Halloween, but what Rowan gave him wasn't it.

He'd resigned himself to having to spend time with Damian, because when it came to Rowan that was just the way things worked. The costumes, however, had thrown him for a loop.

He'd arrived at Rose's sweet treats well before sunset, and gave his customary greetings to Rowan's family before making his way to the girl's room. Once there, he couldn't help the smile on his face at the sight before him.

Her hair was down; the frizzy curls red with some type of temporary spray or chalk. It seemed Rowan hadn't gone with traditional costumes, because she was wearing black boots, white pants, a red and white apron, a red shirt, and a red hooded cape. It was obvious who she was supposed to be, though, because a wicker picnic basket was resting beside her.

To his chagrin, Damian was already there. The boy was seated in front of Rowan. While she sat on her bed, Damian, decked out in black jeans, boots, and a black T-shirt, sat on the floor between her legs so that it was easier for her to... Secure faux animal ears in his hair?

"Are you two supposed to be Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf?" He asked incredulously.

Rowan jumped, and Damian yelled as the action caused her to yank at his hair.

"Er, yeah. Sorry Damian..." She mumbled as she hurriedly finished her ministrations, and then stood up. Damian rolled his eyes and stood beside her. Even at 12, Damian was already really tall. He was only 6 inches shorter than Tim's 5'10 lanky frame. This made him about 7 inches taller than Rowan, who had always looked miniature beside the two of them.

"Drake." The green eyed boy greeted coolly.

"Damian." Tim replied back, just as frigid. The less he associated with Damian, the better.

"Hi Tim." Rowan finally greeted.

He relaxed slightly, and smiled at her.

"Hey, how have you been?"

Rowan gave him a look. They'd been emailing or talking frequently since he left, so it was kind of a stupid question more out of courtesy than anything else.

"Okay, scratch that, what am I wearing tonight?"

All of a sudden, Rowan's eyes lit up. She darted over to her desk, and rummaged through one of the drawers. The sound of plastic bags crinkling filled the silence in the room.

He was busy studying her handprint tree when she asked him something. They'd each added a new handprint on their respective birthdays, dates written in sharpie underneath. Rowan had taken it upon herself to put her's inside of theirs each time. Her hand print was still smaller than theirs.

"Are you still the same shirt size?"

Tim hummed in agreement before backtracking.

"Actually it depends on the shirt, my shoulders are a little bit wider." He tried not to feel awkward about the statement as Rowan continued to look through her drawers. In the past year he'd had a growth spurt, and he was still trying not to feel awkward in his own body. He was tall, and his limbs were longer than he was used to. That resulted in a lot of fumbling that had him putting in multiple hours of extra training to balance it out.

After another moment, Rowan walked up to him, red plaid shirt and fake axe in her hands.

He took them from her with a grin.

"Huntsman?"

She nodded as a wide smile split across her face. Behind them, Damian continued to be an asshole.

"Tt. Why does he get to be the Huntsman? His hair is longer anyway, he'd look better in these ridiculous ears. Shaggy wolf and all that."

Actually Damian looked kind of adorable, but Tim wouldn't be the one to tell him that. He firmly believed in life preservation. It seemed Rowan, however, had no such convictions.

She walked right up to him, stood on the very tips of her toes, and ran one tiny hand over the silky looking ears. Tim didn't comment on the fact that Damian leaned slightly into her touch so that she didn't have to strain as much.

"You look cute. Besides, Gran made these to match your hair."

Damian scowled and straightened out of her reach.

"We have the same color hair."

Rowan pulled back her hand and flipped the red hood over her mass of hair.

"Tim's is darker."

"Tt. We both have black hair you twit."

She pinched him and immediately went back to her desk to pull something else out. As she did so, she repeated her previous statement, head shaking in disagreement as she did so.

"Tim's is darker."

_._._._._._._._._._._._._.

Rowan stood in front of her Mama and shuffled awkwardly.

"So who exactly is supposed to be watching you three?" she asked, one sculpted eyebrow raised.

Rowan had been so busy trying to get Tim to come and putting together their costumes that she'd forgotten all about chaperones. In all honesty, she'd gotten so used to being around Tim and Damian, two practically fearless people, that she'd almost stopped being scared of Gotham when she was with them. But only almost. She still remembered the time she and her Mama made the mistake of trying to walk home after dark. Never again.

Now, however, she realized her mistake. Her Mama didn't know that Damian and Tim could more than take care of any trouble they ran into, and there was no way she'd let them go out alone. Now slightly panicked, she shot a look towards Damian.

Even sporting cute wolf ears, he looked slightly sour. She had the vague feeling that he was irritated with the delay. Not that she was surprised. Something always irritated him.

Still at a loss, she opened and closed her mouth in an attempt to find words. When none came, she looked at Tim. He opened his mouth to speak, but Damian beat him to the punch.

"We're supposed to walk to the end of the block, and then Dick is going to pick us up."

Rowan watched in horror as her Mama accepted the blatant lie.

"Well okay then. Just remember, no sketchy neighborhoods. Stay with the boys, and be back by midnight. If you come home any later than that I'm going to take a switch to your backside."

Rowan would have laughed at her Mama's faux threat if it wasn't for the fact that she was busy staring at Damian in wonder.

She continued to stare as Damian practically dragged her out the door onto the sidewalk.

"Did you really just lie to Rowan's Mom?" Tim asked once her Mama left, just as amazed as she was.

"Well someone had to." Damian said, nonchalantly walking off. Shaking his head, Tim put his fake axe over his shoulder and followed close behind. He glanced back, and Rowan couldn't keep the slightly scared look off of her face.

"Come on Ro, we won't let anything happen to you."

The sentiment was nice, but she was more afraid of what would happen if her Mama ever found out about this.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._.

Damian was getting extremely tired of Rowan's pointed looks by the time 11 pm rolled around. He'd expected to see ridiculous costumes tonight, but the sheer amount of Robins was astounding.

So far he'd seen three different versions: understated, overstated, and downright slutty. All three versions had Rowan in varying degrees of laughter. The third in particular had her nearly falling to the ground in mirth.

The only upside to the night was the massive amount of candy they'd amassed. They'd left around seven pm, just as the sun set, and in the 4 hours they'd been practically all over Gotham. Rowan had been ecstatic over the prospect of getting sweets, and as a result she'd been practically running the entire time. Well, she ran for about 10 minutes before running out of breathe and having Tim carry her. The older boy obliged willingly of course. It was disgusting.

He'd have to examine some of the sketchier looking candy in the lab later, of course, but the acceptable pieces would be rather enjoyable.

Sneering at yet another person who'd felt inclined to comment on their matching costumes, Damian vaguely thought that he'd have to call Dick soon. For his lie to work, they'd have to enforce it by having him take them home.

As they left the overly decorated house behind them, Damian stopped to pull out his phone without bothering to inform his companions. They'd agreed to walk towards the park after the last house since they were already so close. Rowan, still on Tim's back, said something close to his ear as they walked that had Tim chuckling. As a result, they walked a few more steps before Tim noticed his absence and turned around. Rowan dropped down and ran back towards him once she realized he was no longer beside them.

"What's wrong?" She asked peering down, one small finger on his phone to tilt the screen towards her. She was a nosy little thing, but he couldn't complain considering how often he stole her books. Though he didn't know why he continued to do so, since her reading material was unnecessarily smutty for someone of her age. Or any age really.

"Nothing. I'm simply calling Dick to come pick us up. I have no desire to anger your Mother anytime soon, and she explicitly requested that you be home before midnight."

Rowan hummed in agreement before allowing him to dial the number and lift the phone to his ear.

Dick picked up on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Come pick us up at the park." He stated simply.

Dick sighed on the other end.

"What? No 'Hello?'. No 'How is your Halloween?'. Not even an update on how yours went?"

Damian grimaced as a rather bodacious young lady walked by in a barely there interpretation of the Robin costume. His grimace turned into a glare as Rowan snickered beside him.

"Tt. Just come get us."

Dick sighed dramatically once again.

"No, you know what? I don't think I will quite yet. First I want to know if you had fun?"

Damian was about to answer when Rowan began speaking softly, face already dusted pink.

"What'd you think of that costume Damian?'"

"It was ghastly." He said, hand over the speaker on his phone so as not to alert Dick of the situation.

Rowan, despite the fact that she could often be agreeable company, had her moments of idiocy. Albeit she often blushed heavily while they happened.

"I dunno, I think that would be a good upgrade for your costume."

"No."

"But come on, you've got awesome thigh-"

He couldn't help himself, if he let this continue it would only escalate and he'd find himself in a situation he wanted no part of.

He reached out to cover her mouth, but she dodged so he caught her hood instead. He used it to pull he towards him.

"Be quiet." He hissed at her, hopping she'd get the point.

She simply grinned up at him, face a light red before she was lifted up and out of his grasp.

"Geeze, Damian, I don't know why you're so rough with her."

He looked up to see Rowan laughing, Tim holding her carefully over his shoulder.

"Hello? Damian?" Dick asked over the phone.

Damian ignored him in order to deal with Tim. The other boy had been avoiding him as of late, and Damian felt that he deserved to be punished for such juvenile actions. Whatever issue Tim had with him needed to be faced head on, one should never run away from a battle.

So, with as much force as he could use without breaking any of her bones, Damian snatched Rowan back. She let out a small cry and squirmed out of his grasp.

"What was that?" Dick asked at the same time Tim shouted "Damian!"

He went to pick Rowan back up, phone now switched to blue tooth, at the same time that Tim tried to take her out of his grasp.

"Hey!" she said, running away from both of them. Out of pure habit, both Damian and Tim took off after her. She managed to make it to the park, and all the way to the bridge over the pond before Damian caught her.

Dick continued to ask what was going on as Tim grabbed at Rowan, and Damian ended up with his back against the bridge railing. Thought gears turning, Damian made a split decision and leaned over the railing with Rowan in his arms. All of a sudden she stopped struggling and clung to him.

"Wait, no I didn't do anything." She whispered hurriedly.

"Damian! Don't you dare drop her!" Tim shouted, trying to stick his hands between Damian's body and rowan.

"Drop who? What the hell is going on!" Dick asked.

"Tt. I'm not going to drop her-" he was cut off as Tim finally broke his grip and a high pitched scream ripped through the air. Damian watched as she managed to latch onto Tim, and in an attempt to stop her fall, Tim actually went over with her.

There was a loud splash, and Damian was silent as he watched Rowan flail below him as Tim tried to calm her down. After a few minutes of this, Damian finally answered Dick's frantic questions.

"Just pick us up." Then he let the line go dead.

 


	7. Chapter 7

It doesn't take long for Tim to realize that being around Rowan loosens Damian up like scissors to a rubber band. So whenever he comes home for a while, if he has to be around Damian at all, he makes sure Rowan's there. On those days, he and Damian get along just a little better. Granted, they still argue almost every available second, but their fights aren't nearly as vicious. (Tim has a theory that it's because Damian doesn't want to scare Rowan.)

So, when Christmas rolls around and it's time for Tim to head home, he doesn't protest when somehow he ends up on his way to Rowan's home with Damian and Titus on Christmas Eve.

When they walk through the door, Tim is greeted by the scent of sweets and a warm smile.

On his way towards the kitchen, Damian only stops to let the elderly woman behind the counter ruffle his hair and give him a kiss on the forehead before he continues on his path, unnecessarily large dog following him obediently. Though letting her touch him is a big allowance, he still doesn't have the grace to say a word to her.

"Damian don't you have  _any_  manners?"

He doesn't even pause.

"I've got more than  _you_ , you uncultured swine."

Sighing, Tim pinches the bridge of his nose. Just because Damian is an ass, however, doesn't mean he has to be.

"Hi , how are you today?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Gran. And I'm just fine. How have you been?" she replied, amusement lighting her eyes.

Tim shook his head as he glanced towards the kitchen door.

"I'm pretty good. I assume Rowan's upstairs?"

"Why yes she is. Straight through the kitchen and the door will be right in front of you. Try not to make a mess this time, eh?"

Tim groaned. It was obvious the woman wasn't going to let him live down the whole paint fiasco.

"I remember, but I can't promise you anything. Damian is involved after all."

"All right, all right. But remember, Miranda's up there and she'll know if you guys break anything. Department store rules apply: You break it, you buy it." Her tone was serious, but her smile and the mirth in her eyes indicated otherwise.

"Okay, okay. I'll try my best."

Mrs. Chase gave him one last smile before she sent him on his way.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Rowan is lying on her bed, face in her pillow and ear buds in her ears when a warm hand settles on her back and shakes her lightly. When she lifts up her head, she is greeted by warm blue eyes and she can't help but smile.

"Hi Tim."

"Hey Ro, merry Christmas." He says, smile showcasing his pearly whites.

Idly she wonders how he gets them so pristine.

Knowing Damian must be somewhere close by, she gets up to greet him, only to be slammed back into her bed by a rather large mass. Breath knocked out of her, she lies still as a warm tongue attempts to lick at her face.

"Titus! Down!" Damian shouts from her doorway, where he is leaning against the frame.

Laughing, Rowan once again sits up, this time standing so that she can give Titus a loving scratch on the back of the neck. Rowan had fallen in love with the dog that was nearly as big as she was, if not bigger, the very first time she'd seen him.

"Hey puppy," she says, knowing she can get away with calling Damian that since Titus is there.

"How rude," Damian drawls," you greet the animals before me?"

Rowan lets the corner of her mouth quirk up as she secretly celebrates the fact that Tim didn't snap at Damian for his sly insult. Also she's kind of glad that he still hasn't caught on to the fact that she calls him puppy. She hopes he never does.

"Hi Damian. Merry Christmas."

He nodded at her greeting, and then picked up the bat she'd rested beside her door.

"How did your first baseball game go?" he asks, twirling the bat in his hands.

"Did you do well?" Tim says, interest peaked as well.

Before he'd passed away when she was 5, Rowan's Grandpa, an avid baseball lover, had made sure she'd at least known how to hold a bat. Ever since, she'd had a fondness for the sport. After years of hitting balls in the park with some friends from school, they'd finally gotten her to join a team. Damian and Tim had never seen her play, but they at least knew she actually wanted to do it. In fact, she knew they were amused by it considering her usual feeling towards exorcise.

Even after joining the team, her feelings hadn't changed, but that didn't mean she wasn't willing to put in the effort. After a couple years of being chased around by Damian and Tim, Rowan had managed to gain a naturally fast gait, though it hadn't helped her stamina. The coach didn't really mind, however, since Rowan could keep up her pace long enough to zip through the bases. That particular skill had come in handy during their first game. Rowan couldn't help but blush as she explained that her team had won.

"That's awesome!" Tim exclaimed, "I'll have to go and see you play one of these days," he finished, ruffling her hair affectionately.

"I would probably enjoy seeing you play one day as well." Damian put in.

Rowan blushed at the thought of them coming to see her, but smiled all the same.

"I'd like that," she mumbled.

Tim laughed, and Damian smiled, albeit lightly.

"So what'd you get us?" Damian asked, smile turned into a smirk.

"Oh!" Rowan cried, eyes lighting up.

Tim, always one to misinterpret her, sought to soothe her, thinking her cry was one of panic. It was rather ironic considering how good he usually was at reading people.

"You really didn't have to get us anything."

Rowan simply grinned, and pulled off her hoodie, turning in a full circle. Both boys raised their eyebrows at the sight, and Rowan laughed. She'd gotten the idea when Gran had helped her with their Halloween costumes, and hadn't let it go.

The shirt she was wearing was extremely large and black, with Damian's stylized Robin logo on the front, and Tim's Red Robin logo on the back. Rowan knew they liked it when their surprised expressions turned to pleased ones.

Now she was smiling so hard that her cheeks were starting to hurt, but she couldn't stop. Running to pull something from under her bed, she nearly tripped on Titus. She laughed as the large dog dove with her as she pulled Tim and Damian's actual presents from under her bed. She handed the correct gift bags to each boy with an 'Open them.', and watched, smirk now painting  _her_  face as they pulled out the shirts she and Gran had made them.

"Merry Christmas!" she said as Tim held up his new Robin shirt, and Damian held up his new Red Robin shirt.

"You have got to be kidding me." Tim muttered, holding the large shirt up to his body.

"I got big one's so they'd fit for a long time." She stated, proud of her ironic gifts.

"I'm not wearing this. Ever." Damian stated, stony faced.

As Rowan dipped down to give Titus a hug and snuggle, she prepared to bargain with the two older boys.

"I'll make you both a big batch of any kind of cookies you want if you try them on."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sometimes he really despised the fact that Rowan made the best chocolate chip cookies he'd ever eaten.

He stood stalk still as Rowan stared at them, mostly dissolved red sucker in her mouth and pleased smile on her face.

"Happy now?" he asked, stony faced.

Her smile widened for a split second before immediately dropping.

"No." she stated simply.

He let one eyebrow raise in question, while Tim sighed.

"What else have you got up your sleeve?" the older boy asked warily. Expression still lax, she got up, dropped her finished sucker in the trash can, and walked out of her room without saying a word.

Too late, he realized that she'd taken her iPod with her, and had turned to snap a picture of them before running through the hall, face stained red and wild hair streaming.

"Dammit!" he swore before bolting after her. He didn't even have to turn to know Tim was on his heels.

"Damian, leave her alone!" he yelled, trying to grab onto the back of his shirt. Damian dodged and then jumped over the couch in an effort to get closer to her. It was bad enough that the girl had pictures of him covered in frosting (That she  _swore_  she wouldn't show anyone.). There was no way he was letting her carry around a picture of him in this  _ridiculous_ shirt as well.

He'd almost caught her when she ripped open the door leading downstairs, accidently making it slam against the wall. She paused, and Damian froze in his tracks at the sound of her mother's voice.

"What the hell are you three doing?" she shouted from her bedroom.

There was a long pause of silence and Damian glanced back to see the slightly startled look on Tim's face. And then all hell broke loose as they simultaneously shouted 'nothing', and Rowan darted down the stairs.

They were already through the kitchen and in the dining area when Rowan did something he absolutely  _did not expect._

She stopped dead in her tracks, making both Damian and Tim come to a grinding halt behind her as well. What resulted was a heap of tangled limbs and cursing from both him  _and_ Tim. And as he listened, he did hear a small 'shit' tumble from Rowan's mouth as she had the breath knocked out of her.

"What are you three doing?" Rose asked from somewhere above them. When he'd stopped, Tim had slammed into his back, knocking him into Rowan. Out of instinct, they'd both gone for her, the obviously weaker and smaller of the three of them, and pulled back. Tim had hit the wall, but Damian had gone to the ground, Rowan half on his chest.

The position, unfortunately, wasn't all that unfamiliar, as they'd formed a habit of crashing into thing  _way to often for his tastes._  Except… Something was different.

Something was off.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Tim looked down to see Rowan unnecessarily tense, and the gears in his head spun for a reason. She wasn't usually like this. While she was extremely uncomfortable with other people, she'd always been comfortable around them. On top of that, he'd noticed that Mrs. Chase, who was normally nothing if not gentle and caring, had sounded unusually cold.

He noticed that instead of laughing as she usually did when in a situation like this, Rowan was looking up, eyes wide and embarrassed blush staining her face. He followed her gaze and was met with brown, cold disapproving eyes. Vaguely familiar brown eyes. He started, and couldn't help himself from asking:

"Who're you?"

The man's answer was quick, and to the point.

"I'm her father, Mitchel. Who, pray tell, are you young men?"

Tim glanced quickly down at Rowan, who was still lying on Damian's chest. He noticed for the first time that he was half stooped over as well, his hand grasped tightly to her shirt in support, and  _oops,_  he was pulling it up slightly. Immediately, he dropped it and instead moved to pick Damian up, who brought Rowan with him.

Damian, however, did not let her go and instead kept her sideways across his shoulders. An awkward choice that displayed his strength, but Tim could understand his reasoning. The man in front of them wasn't welcoming in the least, and he looked as if he'd step on anyone he deemed below him without a second glance.

While Damian stood tall and proud with Rowan laying across his shoulders, Tim straightened up as well. Before he knew it he was sizing up the man. Looked to be of Caucasian decent, slightly wavy brown hair, round brown eyes, mid thirties, about 5'10'', in good shape, yet not physically intimidating. Well, to him at least.

He glanced at Rowan. She was still tense, and absolutely avoiding the gaze of the man who claimed to be her father.

Damian replied first, making sure to add the weight of his last name.

"Damian Wayne." He stated, almond eyes cold.

Clearing his throat, Tim followed.

"Timothy Drake." He didn't particularly feel the need to extend pleasantries to a man who looked at his own daughter like she was a stranger.

And now that he thought about it, perhaps she was. In all the time he'd known her, Rowan had rarely, if ever mentioned her father.

The man's eyes sparked in recognition, and Tim noticed Damian tighten his grip on Rowan, then set her down. She blanched at being set down, and both boys noticed her discomfort. Tim reached over to settle his arm across Damian's shoulder, and the usually touch abhorrent boy let him as Rowan leaned into his arm for comfort. Without saying a word, Damian wrapped a friendly arm around Rowan's waist. She relaxed in their embrace, and finally turned shy eyes towards the man in front of them.

"Why haven't ever introduced me to your friends?" he asked.

Tim let the sentence flow through his natural translator: Why haven't you introduced me to these possible connections?

Tim knew his type. Business types, always trying to get on top. He knew this game, probably better than anyone else, even Damian.

Ms. Rose stood, lips pierced at the man's rude tone.

Rowan simply shrugged, and seemed to burrow farther into their embrace.

"What do you want?" Mrs. Chase asked, voice still cold as ice.

Mitchel didn't even glance at her.

"I wanted to take Rowan home for Christmas."

Rowan's breathing abruptly stopped. He didn't know what was going on there, but he'd find out.

Tim didn't even comment on the fact that Rowan was already home before words slipped from his mouth.

"She already promised to come to our house for Christmas."

She breathed again.

The man simply blinked, and didn't dare object.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

By the time the gift giving was over, they'd all settled into the living room around the fire place. Alfred was in the kitchen making them all hot chocolate. Bruce was in the recliner. Jason was sitting on the couch opposite to Dick. Damian and Tim were on the loveseat, and Rowan, odd as it was, had settled at their feet, entire body wrapped around her giant chocolate bar.

She didn't look entirely comfortable, and Dick was the first to speak up.

"You know there's plenty of room on the couch over here right?"

"Mhm." Rowan didn't move a muscle.

Tim looked down at her.

"Um, he's trying to say you that you don't have to lie on the floor. If it makes you feel better, I'm sure you could squeeze in between Damian and me."

"I know." She still didn't move.

This time is what Damian who spoke.

"Rowan, are you comfortable?"

"Not really. The carpet is leaving imprints on my face."

Damian scoffed at her and nudged her head with his foot.

"Then why are you down there?"

She wrinkled her nose and moved her head away.

"It's easier to be close to my chocolate this way."

There was an awkward silence, and then muffled laughing filled the air.

"Is she serious?" Jason asked.

"Looks like it." Bruce said, small smile on his face.

Tim just shook his head.

"Rowan you  _do_  know that you're going to melt it with your body heat right?" Damian, always the pessimist, interjected.

"Shut up, leave me alone." She mumbled, a pained look crossing her face.

"You need to see a therapist."

Tim couldn't help himself, he raised his hand and slapped Damian upside the head. The irate boy turned and practically growled at him. Before he could attack like the wild animal he was, however, Rowan made her own interjection.

"I'll make you a deal; I'll see a therapist for my food obsession when you see one for your anger issues."

Bruce and Jason were chuckling, while Dick fell into a full blown fit of laughter. Tim wasn't exactly stony faced either.

Damian simply rolled his eyes.

Eventually, the laughter stopped.

"So you're not going to be getting up anytime soon?" Tim found himself asking.

"Nope." She replied, popping the 'p'.

"Well okay then." He wasn't happy that she was laying down there, but he couldn't exactly yank her up. That'd be rude.

A few minutes later, after Dick had decided to put a movie on the TV in the corner of the room, Damian began to move. Tim watched with interest as he moved to the edge of the couch, leaned over to pick up Rowan's head and shoulders, and slipped to the ground. He put his back against the couch and let Rowan's head fall into his lap. He did this all without either one of them saying a word, and not one look or protest from Rowan. Recognizing their position from the times he'd visited Rowan with Damian, Tim moved closer to allow Damian to lean some of his weight onto Tim's leg.

To anyone who'd never spent a sizable amount of time with them, the move was startling to say the least.

"Okay is this girl blackmailing you or something, because you're touching Tim and limbs aren't being broken. You haven't even started a fight yet and it's been hours." Jason began, voice incredulous. "And you actually did something nice." He finished, gesturing towards Rowan.

Tim just sighed and looked at Jason.

"Don't question it. Just enjoy it while it lasts."

Damian sneered, and pulled the chocolate from Rowan's grip to set it on the couch. He also took off her glasses and put them beside her chocolate. Tim waited for a sound of protest, but there was none. He looked down, and for the first time, noticed that Rowan had fallen asleep.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Damian was a competitive person by nature. It was something he'd known nearly his entire life, and he was anything but apologetic about it.

Which was why when Rowan looks him in the eye and declares that they're having a cupcake making contest, he can't say no.

Logically he knows Rowan will win. She's the one with the most experience, and she had a knack for making confections. It is for these very reasons that he instead focuses on beating the one other competitor in their contest: Tim.

Of course this means that in the end, there are no cupcakes. Instead all three of them were wearing flour, and Damian was left staring at two very irritated people.

Faced with glaring blue eyes and disappointed brown, he can do nothing but sneer back as they stare him down. Eventually, it's Rowan that pipes up.

"I... I just... Don't... Understand..." She whispers as her gaze roams around the smaller kitchen in the living portion of her grandmother's shop.

Honestly, he has no idea what she's blathering about. So he tells her so.

"What, pray tell, is it that has you so out of sorts?"

He makes sure to use a formal way of speaking, as he knows it amuses the small girl and gives her incentive to look up the words she doesn't know. Having ignorant friends is not on his agenda, so he doesn't mind doing the small deed.

She blinks owlishly at him, and he feels the urge to taunt her for her slowness. Instead he finds himself directing his aggression towards Tim.

The older boy was more fun to tease anyway. If he was lucky, he could get an adequate sparring match from him. With Rowan, all he received wee disapproving looks and the certainty that she wouldn't last a single second in a mock fight with him. Besides, she always seemed bothered when they fought, so he got satisfaction from that as well.

"Perhaps you're wondering why Drake keeps his hair at such a ridiculous length. All it's done is serve as an extensive trap for the flour."

Rowan's reaction is a small chuckle, while Tim's is far more remarkable.

"Shut up Damian, it's your fault that flour got everywhere."

Damian rolled his eyes defiantly just to piss off the other black haired boy.

"I'm not the one who tried to tell Rowan how many cups she needed when she's  _obviously_  the more experienced out of the three of us."

Tim stepped forward and Damian inwardly smirked.

"No, but you  _are_  the one who snatched it out of my hand and spilled it."

Damian took a step forward even as Rowan moved slightly in front of Tim and between them.

"And  _you're_  the one who threw the remainder of the scoop at my chest."

Rowan, while she could keep them physically apart, was far too short to keep them from coming face to face.

" _And you're the one who picked up the entire bag and dumped it on my head_."

'Checkmate.' Damian thought as he watched Tim lose his cool.

Before he could properly react, however, Rowan was pulling at his shirt sleeve incessantly.

He looked down at her and yanked his sleeve away.

"What?"

She frowned and brushed some of the flour off of his shirt.

"Tim and I are going to go get the flour out of our hair before it sets, can you clean up the kitchen before Mama comes home?" she asked, large eyes staring intently.

Since she'd been right next to Tim and was significantly shorter, she'd gotten a good amount of the white powder in her hair as well.

He almost declined, but then thought better of it. He wasn't immature enough to totally deny his involvement with the issue by refusing to help her.

"Shouldn't Drake help too?" he asked instead.

At this, she smiled.

"You have the kitchen, and Tim's going to help wash my hair, and then re-braid it."

As she spoke, Damian didn't even attempt to hold back his smirk. Today, Rowan had her hair half braided away from her face in what she called 'corn rows'. It was an aesthetically pleasing, yet efficient hair style on his young friend. He could respect that. He could also respect the work that had gone into crafting the braids. The work that Tim would now have to learn to replicate.

The blue eyed boy looked appropriately cowed at the prospect.

By the time Damian was done with the kitchen, his hands where pruning slightly and he'd vowed never again to attempt baking. The cleanup process was just too time consuming.

He was just about ready to give Rowan a lecture on just what he thought of the menial task.

The scene he walked in on, however, soothed his mood. It was just too funny not to.

Rowan was seated between Tim's knees, expression twisted in pain as the older boy tried to braid her hair. The scene was made even more perfect by the fact that Tim's hair had been secured behind his ears by a winding braid that, to Damian's shock, did not take away from his masculinity at all. Obviously Rowan had been the one to do it.

Damian was briefly distracted by his thoughts, however, when Rowan squeaked quietly in front of him. Her small hand reached up to move under Tim's larger one and poke gently at her scalp. She winced when she did so.

"I'm so sorry, I'm trying my best I swear!" Tim said when he noticed this.

Rowan smiled slightly at him and moved her hand to flick the inside of his wrist.

"Damian could do better," she laughed.

Damian smirked at this.

Tim scowled behind her.

"He could not. He'd probably rip out half your hair."

"Shut the hell up," Damian bit out in response.

He watched as Rowan giggled, and disagree with Tim.

"Actually, if he can make friendship bracelets, he should be able to braid."

Damian watched Tim cock an eyebrow at this, and resolved to talk to Rowan about confidentiality later. For how, he just smirked at the flabbergasted look on Tim's face.

"Don't feel bad, you'll be better with practice," Rowan said, smile bright and encouraging.

For once, Damian agreed with Tim when the blue eyed boy gave Rowan a disbelieving stare.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Damian, she knows, is absolutely odd when it comes to birthdays. Or at least he is when it comes to  _his_ birthday. On March 16th, every year, Damian comes to her house and spends the night. Which isn't the part that irritates her really, as that's something he does most nights. Really, only a few things are different.

He actually comes in the evening, through the front door, when her Mama and Gran are still awake, so they know he's actually there. He usually comes at fuck-o'clock-in the morning and goes through her window.

_He_  brings food and movies.

They sleep on the floor as per her Gran's request and her Mama's insistence instead of tearing apart each other's personal bubbles and lying on her bed limbs everywhere.

He stays until sometime in the afternoon the next day, as opposed to leaving before the sun comes up.

But again, this isn't what irritates her. What irritates her is that she's pretty sure Mr. Wayne and Mr. Grayson always do something for him, yet by about 6 pm he's at her house instead of spending time with them. She has a hunch that it's because they always invite all of his brothers, including Jason, and for some reason he just doesn't get along with him. She has a hunch that it's because of sexual tension, but then again she feels as if everything's sexual tension. It's one of the side effects of reading all those romance books that Tim still pretends she doesn't read.

So when Damian's 13th birthday rolls around, all three of the woman in the Chase household are more than prepared when Damian walks in at promptly 7 pm with a German chocolate cake and a back pack.

He settles in with his usual snide attitude in no time and before she knows it, 2 am rolls around and they're lying on her floor comfortable in their blanket nest with nothing but her iPod to keep the dark at bay.

And then he asks about her father and she freezes like she just got doused in liquid nitrogen.

She's uncomfortable with their topic, so she does the only thing that she thinks will work.

"I'll tell you about my Father if you tell me about your mom."

He says nothing, as she'd expected. It's a comfortable silence that envelopes them in the moments that follow, and she's fine with that.

And as they're lying in bed, Damian says something she absolutely does not expect.

"I have her eyes."

She's startled by his sudden exclamation, and she turns to him with wide eyes. The look in his green depths is something she'd never seen before. It's dark and light all at once, and suddenly she wants to hug him. She wants to hug him and pet his cheek in that way he secretly likes but doesn't think she knows about and tell him everything's going to be okay.

But she doesn't. She doesn't and it makes her chest ache, but she keeps her hands to herself and lets the boy in front of her talk.

"At least that's what Father told me the one time I asked. I have her eyes, and hair, and nose, and mouth, but I have his coloring."

As he speaks, she looks him over in the dim light from her phone, and takes in the features he'd mentioned.

Almond shaped eyes, a mouth on the fuller side, straight nose, and the thickest hair she'd seen besides her's.

"I think that's a good thing," he says," because my Mother is beautiful."

Rowan hmms, and tries to put together the illusive image of Damian's mom in her mind. It's blurry and it doesn't feel right, but she doesn't ask Damian to help her directly.

"Is she beautiful in the same way my Mama is?" she asks.

Her Mama was all curves and lithe muscle form years of dance. Having a child had done nothing to change that.

He nods and Rowan is starting too able to put together a better picture now.

"She has lighter skin, though," he says as he reaches out to brush his fingertips over the top of her hand, "it's more like yours. Maybe a little lighter."

At this Rowan smiled. Damian had always seemed to be a little tanner, but she'd always thought that was because she often saw him with Tim, who was pale as porcelain. And maybe it was. As he'd said, he did have his dad's coloring. Mr. Wayne, while still pretty white, wasn't exactly the palest man around. (I.e. Tim)

"So you're mixed like me?" she asks.

He smiles lightly and it's a look she likes on the surly boy.

"Yeah."

She hmms again and pats his cheek. He doesn't knock her hand away immediately, and she mentally jots it down as progress.

"What's she like?"

It's here that Damian's once relaxed form tenses, and Rowan wishes she could take her words back. She thinks that this is the end of their conversation; that he'll stop and clam up.

He doesn't. It's this that makes her realize that in the dark of night when secrets seem to slip away the easiest, Damian is letting himself vent.

"She's..." He pauses as he searches for words. She understands the feeling all too well, and she lets him.

"She is determined," is what he finally comes up with.

"She's determined, powerful, deadly, and..."

He pauses once again, not meeting her gaze. She goes to poke him on the side, but before she can there's a hand around her wrist.

She can't help but flinch and bite her tongue to keep from crying out. Almost immediately Damian lets go and stares. He stares as if in disbelief about his actions.

She doesn't want him to feel bad, so she rests the tender appendage lightly on her stomach and smiles at him.

He doesn't smile back.

"Damian-"

"When I was little," he cuts her off, displaying a trait both he and Tim seemed to share, "we sparred on my birthdays."

She can't help but look at him, confused.

He sees her expression, and gives her a sardonic smile.

"We fought Rowan. Not completely serious, but as a form of training."

She doesn't know what to say.

"The goal was that if I could beat her, then I'd be ready."

She doesn't ask for what. She doesn't really want to.

"For the first 8 years of my life, she beat me every time. I'd get banged up performing the different task she'd set for me. And then she'd place a sword or a gun or any number of deadly weapons on an area that would kill me in a real fight, and say 'Happy birthday Damian, you lose.'"

She'd seen Damian fight before, once. Well, not really. But it had been close enough for her. They'd been taking a late night walk that her Mama would never know about and someone had decided to pick on the two little kids out alone in the dark.

Any other time, the guy probably would have had an easy night. A boy and a one tiny girl? Not very threatening. However, when one took into account the fact that said boy was  _Damian_ , well then the odds changed dramatically. Of course the shady man hadn't known that.

It hadn't really been much of a fight. Damian struck hard and with no mercy. No remorse. That was the first time she wondered if her friend was as okay as he pretended to be. It wasn't the last. From then on out she'd tried to pay more attention. What she'd seen thus far hadn't always been pretty.

"The last time, the time before I came to live with my Father, I won."

There was a different look in his eyes, and it was one she recognized this time. Confusion.

"I jumped out of a plane with a group of soldiers," he said, still lot looking at her, "I killed them all."

He glanced at her once.

"Father says killing is wrong, no matter what. So now, I try not to. For him."

And then he waited. She knew what he was waiting for. He was waiting for her to call him a monster, to call him disgusting. Because as he had spoken, there'd been no remorse, no guilt there. It was said as a fact. He'd killed people in a training exercise and didn't give a single damn.

And she didn't know how to feel about that. Because the Damian then, the one who killed without a second thought, was not the same Damian who sat with her when she was 8 and watched movies until they were both too exhausted to stay awake.

While the killer was who he was then, and truthfully was now, may have been scary as hell, the one who did silly things with her was... Her friend. He was still her friend. And someone she'd freely admit that she adored.

So she reached out with steady hands and patted his cheek.

"Okay." was all she said, and in that moment he saw his entire body relax.

"After, I did end up beating her. Do you know what she told me?"

Rowan blinked, and rubbed at her stomach.

"Happy birthday Damian," she started,"you win," they finished together.

She rubbed he stomach harder. It hurt.

He smiled again, that horrible, biting smile.

"That's the kind of woman she is."

And then he was lying down, back towards her.

"Don't worry about telling me about your father," he said.

And she didn't. Because tonight wasn't about her spilling her bottled up emotions, it was about him spilling his. And that was okay.

So she let him simmer down, and she'd nearly fallen asleep when he whispered something into the silence.

"Do you think people can do bad things to other people and still love them?"

Rowan had only to briefly picture the cold gaze of her father warming as her Mama walked into the room before she answered.

"I think that sometimes, they can't help it."

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, be proud. I posted three chapters at once :3

Tim knew that while Rowan did have a fondness for closeness, this fondness only extended as far as her friends and family. And while she'd been born with the later, the former was something he'd noticed she didn't seem to obtain easily. It wasn't to say the girl didn't have any friends, because he and Damian were most definitely her friends, and he'd seen pictures of a few girls she seemed to favor, it was just that she was extremely shy.

Which was why during her first few months of middle school, Tim was sure to check up on her. The conversation was amusing to say the least. She'd been contemplating whether or not to join an actual school sports team, as she didn't actually enjoy things like practicing, but her friends had convinced her. She and the girls she hung out with had wanted to try out for the baseball team, but it just so happened that the only team was all male. Which meant they had to fight tooth and nail to even get the school to consider letting them join. Of course with a mother who was an absolute hell cat and an even fiercer grandmother, she and her friends were able to join the try outs.

He hadn't been surprised when she said she'd been accepted on to the team. He also wasn't surprised to learn that her teammates were not happy with this arrangement. She didn't come out and say it, but Tim could read between the lines. She was attending a school where the middle and high school buildings were on the same campus, and the sports teams were combined. Yes, the teams were split into two sections based on age, but that didn't do much to help the situation. It was an absolutely stupid move to Tim, but it wasn't his school so he couldn't do anything about it. The mostly older, testosterone filled boys were mad that a barely five foot tall girl who ran out of breath walking up stairs got on the team instead of someone bigger and stronger. The fact of the matter was that what Rowan lacked in strength and size, she more than made up in skill and speed. He was kind of proud to say that he'd somewhat contributed to that, what with the massive amount of time he'd spent with Damian playing games of cat and mouse with the smaller girl.

Despite her team's aversion to her and the other three girls who'd gotten on the team, Rowan seemed to be enjoying it. She'd said the girls, whose names were Tatiana, Monica, and Beth, always talked to her and made sure she felt comfortable. Tim was happy about that, as he knew it was hard to get the girl to feel at ease.

Besides baseball, Tim had learned about other parts of Rowan's school life. She out right told him she loved her history class, and he'd come to the conclusion that she hated science based on the fact that it was the class she spent the most time texting him from. That, and she'd admitted that her science notebook was filled with sharpie doodles more than anything else.

At that, he'd laughed and told her about the specialty pack of sharpies he'd found in a random store. While Rowan had a habit of going through sharpies, both he and Damian had a habit of picking them up for her. It had started when she had asked them to pick up some simple black ones for her if they saw them and it wasn't too much trouble, and had never stopped.

While she hadn't outright stated her dislike for science, she'd made her distaste for PE plain and clear with a simple 'Fuck PE' and a huff. He'd laughed for a long time, and she'd called him an ass. He'd laughed harder when she'd told him about her desire to burn the plaid uniform skirt. He'd never seen her in anything but pants before, and he couldn't even picture her in a skirt.

All in all, however, he'd summarized that she was having a fairly enjoyable time in middle school. As a teen himself, he had no shame in saying that other kids could be absolute assholes, but for the most part she seemed to be getting along fine with her classmates.

At least he'd thought she was.

He was sitting in his bedroom on a Friday thinking of somewhere to take Connor to for their one year anniversary when his phone vibrated with a familiar ringtone. Truthfully, he was kind of happy to be relieved from the task. It was a short clip of the song 'Bubblegum Bitch' by Marina and the Diamonds that had played. An odd choice for the 12 year old, but she'd been the one to set it.

'I eat a lot of sugar and Damian calls me a bitch under his breath all the time anyway,' was the only reason she'd given him. He hadn't really felt like arguing.

He smiled slightly at the thought of his small friend. She was a weird one for sure.

When he looked at the screen, however, his smile fell and he nearly dropped his phone. Instead of a text, as he'd expected, there was a picture of Rowan. Now while the fact that it was a picture of her didn't bother him, the fact that she was not wearing pants  _did._

As his thoughts assaulted him with possibilities as to why in the  _hell_ she would send him this. He discarded them one after another as they all sounded way too  _wrong_. Finally he worked up the nerve to glance back at the picture and simply take in the facts. The facts he could handle. Facts led to answers, and answers led to him not having a heart attack over the fact that he essentially now had child porn on his phone.

He cleared his mind and pushed himself into what was essentially his 'detective mode', then looked at the picture.

It was slightly blurry, but he could still make out most of the details. There were lockers everywhere, and he concluded that it was most probably the female's locker room at her school. There was nothing else it could be. Rowan looked to be alone, and she wasn't  _actually_ looking at the camera. Her face was neutral. She was in a baseball shirt and bright yellow and black underwear that revealed  _way_ too much because now he knew that she not only had freckles sprinkled across her face but her thighs and hips where absolutely covered in them and  _he did not need to know that._  While he'd seen and trained with girls in less, with Rowan it just seemed wrong. Probably because of the fact that she was barely twelve. She was turned slightly, and was reaching into her bag in order to pull out what looked to be her school's uniform skirt. With a small spark of anger, Tim realized that she probably hadn't realized that the picture had been taken.

And suddenly he had a vague idea of what had happened. Trying to keep calm, he waited about an hour, and then dialed her number. When she answered in that quiet voice of hers, he fought to keep his voice neutral.

"Hey Ro," he said softly.

"Hi," she replied distractedly.

Vaguely he realized that she was probably doing her homework right now, but since she hadn't called him freaking out yet, he figured she probably didn't know what had happened yet. And she needed to. Now.

He made sure to phrase his question carefully.

"Ro? Have you checked your texts today?"

She was silent for a second.

"Mmm, no. Why?" she replied softly.

"I got something weird."

"Oh, it was probably Greg. I let him borrow my phone today and he said he accidently texted one of my friends."

Tim sat for a second, and took it all in. He was relieved that it appeared he was the only one who'd gotten the picture. Anyone else probably would not have handled it well. Namely Damian.

"Who's Greg?" he asked, still keeping his voice nonchalant.

She hmmed in question and Tim repeated his inquiry. Rowan didn't pay much attention to the world around her at the best of times, and it was even worse when she had something she was invested in.

"He's on my baseball team. Why're you so interested? What'd he send?"

Tim was not looking forward to her reaction to this. While she may have been comfortable with them coming in and out of her room at all hours (Which was a bad habit he'd picked from Damian when he'd learned the younger boy had told her all about their nightly escapades. That had been a  _fun_  conversation.), she was  _not_ comfortable with them seeing her like  _that_. She'd never told them specifically, but again, he'd figured it out himself. If she wasn't comfortable with them seeing her bottomless, there was no way in hell she'd be okay with someone else.

Clearing his throat, Tim answered in the least awkward way he could. Which was still pretty damn awkward.

"You might want to check your phone…"

She hummed her okay and told him to give her a second.

And then there was gravely squeaking sound and the line went dead.

Tim groaned and called her again, this time sitting up. She didn't answer, so he called her three more times. She answered on his fourth try.

"ImSoSorry!" she mumbled quickly.

She sounded extremely distressed and Tim felt for her.

"It's okay Ro, well not really but it's not your fault. But Ro, why would he do that?"

She made a small squeaking sound, and once again hung up. Sighing, Tim scrubbed at his face and stood up. The girl sounded as if she was freaking out, and he knew there was absolutely no way she would tell her mother about it. Rowan was normally very calm… But he could tell that right now, she wasn't in her usual state. She needed someone, and he needed to find out what the fuck was going on. Rowan, despite the age difference, was one of his closest friends. No matter how much he simply wanted to stay in bed for the rest of his weekend, he had the obligation to help her through this. Because while he was sure her friends were nice enough, there was nothing they could do to fix this. Aside from Damian, who could probably help, but would end up doing it in a very bloody way. So really, he only had one option. He needed to go to Gotham.

He ignored the fact that her ire wasn't the only reason he was going.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Rowan woke up to the sound of quiet knocking on her door. She was disoriented for all of fifteen seconds before the feeling of sweaty clothes sticking to her skin and notebooks digging into her face set in. Then it all came rushing back and she buried her head right back into her bed.

She didn't even want to  _think_ about what her team mate had done. Frankly she should probably talk to him about that, but all she wanted to do was crawl under her bed and stay there for the rest of her life. She wanted to burn the image out of Tim's mind because  _Jesus, he did not need to see that_. She wanted tape up all her windows and hoard all the food in the house and never ever leave-

But holy crap someone was rubbing her shoulder lightly. She bolted up at the feeling and was met with a concerned look from the one person she really did not want to see.

"Hey Ro," Tim said apprehensively.

For a second, she simply stared as her face pretty much heated enough to melt metal. With a start, she realized that there was really only one reason Tim would be here and she prayed that he hadn't told her Mama. Her Mama would be absolutely  _livid._  She'd be mad at Greg and at the school, but most importantly she'd be mad at  _her_ for not standing up for herself. And then she realized she wasn't breathing anymore and Tim was desperately trying to get her to do so.

"You didn't tell her…" she asked, trying not to look him in the eye when she managed to suck in a breath. Tim gently laid his hands on her arms in a gesture of comfort and she flinched away from his touch. She hadn't meant to, and when Tim winced at the action she felt bad.

"No, I didn't, I told her I was here on a quick trip to visit Bruce. While Bruce knows I'm here, he thinks it's for something else," he said as he began to move the stuff she'd evidently slept on so he could gingerly sit next to her.

For a second, there was an extremely uncomfortable silence. There was no way she was going to break it, however, so she was glad when Tim did. As much as she didn't want to talk about it, she really did hate when things were awkward between them. Which was why she never brought up the fact that she caught Tim and Damian unconsciously checking each other out on a regular basis. Yeah, awkward.

"Ro, we need to talk about this. Do you know what happened?"

She recoiled at the careful tone he was using, and discretely moved away from him. Or not because oops now he was giving her pointed looks.

"You do, don't you?" he asked.

' _Maybe,'_  she thought, still not looking at him.

She relaxed minutely when he reached out to gently tug on one of her even messier than usual curls. When he'd first started doing it she'd been kind of mad because she'd thought he was making fun of her untamable locks, but eventually she'd figured out that he actually just genuinely liked her hair. The movement had become something she associated as purely Tim, and so it was comforting.

She turned her gaze towards him, but still couldn't quite meet his eyes. She heard him sigh slightly, and suddenly her glasses were no longer on her face. It was odd, but not being able to see clearly any longer soothed her. In consideration, the action probably should have worried her, but it didn't. And Tim knew that. He was probably the only person that did. Not being able to see meant that she wouldn't have to face the reactions of those around her head on. It was a kind of a 'if I can't see you, you can't see me' idea. Foolish, but Tim had never faulted her for it.

"Ro, I just want you to talk to me. Please."

She was scared and embarrassed and she didn't want to talk but it was Tim and she trusted him. So she did.

"It was just a joke…" she said quietly.

His gaze hardened and she almost withdrew into herself, but almost immediately he softened again and poked her lightly on the cheek. It was a mimic of what she usually did to him, and it made her smile slightly.

"It's not a very funny joke. Why would he do that?" Tim said, keeping his voice low.

Rowan looked down at her lip and fiddled with the skirt she'd worn to school the previous day and hadn't bothered to take off.

"I dunno. I think it was kind of like hazing…" her words contradicted each other, but Tim didn't seem to mind.

"So you think the rest of your team knew?" he voice was really even. It held none of the playful emotion she was used to.

"Not  _all_  of them," she whispered," just a few…"

"Rowan that's not okay. You know they shouldn't have done that. You just turned 12 Ro, had that gotten sent to literally anyone else-"

She cut him off. She didn't need a lecture, she hadn't done anything wrong.

"I know, okay. I just… I don't know what to do…" her voice cracked at this, but she wouldn't cry.

He huffed and ran a hand through his inky locks, and Rowan simply sat, still messing with her skirt's hem.

"Look," he said, tugging on one of her curls once again," I'll go with you to talk to them. We'll figure this out together, okay?"

She hadn't wanted to talk to anyone about this, but now she was kind of glad she had. Where Rowan crashed and burned when talking to people, Tim… Didn't. It was one of the many reasons she was glad they were friends. The guy had a way with words that could put the best lawyers to shame.

"So how've you been?"

He smiled slightly at her off topic question and shook his head.

There was also the fact that he let her change the subject way too often. Not that she was complaining.

"Okay. I've just been trying to figure out where to take Connor for our first date."

At this, Rowan raised her eyebrow. It was about time the undersexed boy made his move.

"Yeah, he actually asked me out first," he stated, obviously seeing the question in her gaze.

It was another thing she liked about him; she never needed to be as vocal and blunt as had to when she was with Damian.

"Do you want to be dating?" she asked him gently. She'd begun to notice that he didn't talk about Connor as much lately.

He had the good grace not to look surprised at her question.

"Honestly? I don't know. I just…" he trailed off at this, shaking his hair out of its short pony tail and running his hand through it.

Smiling lightly, Rowan reached up and brushed her fingertips against one of his inky locks. He blinked at the feeling and turned his azure gaze back on her. She gave him a reassuring smile as she spoke.

"Is it like what happened with Stephanie."

When he nodded she hummed and poked him in the shoulder. She remembered when he'd broken it off with the pretty girl; he'd simply lost interest. It was nothing to be ashamed of, but he always seemed to get embarrassed when she told him that. It was probably because she was 12. Getting relationship advice from a 12 year old probably wasn't at the top of the list of things that inflate a guy's ego. Ah well, he'd get over it.

"I'm sure Connor would understand; I just have to figure out how to tell him."

Rowan nodded in agreement, and let the silence around them settle comfortably. It would be easier if she could ignore the queasy feeling left over from the whole photo fiasco.

After getting rid of the pencil that had been poking her in the butt for the last few minutes, Rowan leaned against Tim's shoulder.

"I don't remember giving you permission to get all cozy on me," he said teasingly.

"Rude," she murmured back, sticking out her tongue at him. He blew a raspberry back and she giggled.

They sat comfortably for a time, but then Rowan decided to ask something she'd been wondering for a while.

"What about Damian?"

The boy in front of her twitched and turned on her with a practiced stare. The corners of his mouth were twisted up, but his eyes were dead. It was a look she'd seen him use on people all too often. Something she didn't think he even noticed he was doing. She hated it.

"What about him?" Tim asked, voice just as false as his expression.

At this point, Rowan didn't want to say anything. She didn't want to make it worse. But if she stopped now, Tim would only get it out of her later. He had a habit of doing things like that.

So she looked down, fiddling with her skirt for what felt like the millionth time that day, and told him what she'd been thinking about for a while.

"You look at him a lot."

He was silent as he looked at her, and Rowan tried not to squirm under his stare. It wasn't easy.

"I do?" he asked eventually.

"You do," she confirmed.

At that, he looked more contemplative than anything. Rowan could only wonder what was going through the older boy's head.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Rowan's not a complicated person. She really only requires a few things: food, sharpies, books, and at least a few hours of sleep.

It is for this reason, that when one of the things she needs is taken away, she gets a little… irritable.

"Rowan."

The sound was obtrusive, and she tried to ignore it.

"Rowan, wake up."

She grumbled, and put the pillow over her head.

"Rowan, I'm only requesting you get up one more time."

At this point, she recognized the voice, and had absolutely no shame in poking her middle finger out from between her covers. After a second, however, she poked her finger back into her cocoon of warmth.

That is until a cold, sticky hand snaked its way between her covers and under her t shirt to squeeze a handful of her side fat. Hard.

Her eyes immediately bolted open and, to her horror, she squealed like a pig. There was a reason she hated when Damian did that.

"Watdoyawant." She slurred blearily after making sure his hand was safely away from her squishiness.

It was dark in her room, and since she wasn't wearing her glasses, she had even less of a chance of seeing him. She did, however, know he was in front of her bed.

"You've had gum in your hair before, correct?"

"Yeah," she murmured.

It was an odd question that had Rowan sitting up and rubbing her eyes. She yawned, and readily accepted the glasses Damian was handing to her. She still couldn't really see him, but if she turned on the light now, all she'd do was hurt herself. On top of being half blind, she was pretty sensitive to sudden bright lights. Luckily, Damian knew that, and did not attempt to brighten the room.

"You've also had to get paint out of it?"

Rowan wrinkled her nose at him; that was not a fond memory. Her Mama had been pissed when she'd found out about their impromptu paint fight. It had taken forever to get all the colors out of her curls, and her Mama still glared at her hand tree to this day. Her Gran, however, had been extremely amused. In fact, she'd been slightly offended that she didn't get to participate.

"Ugh, yeah."

Her eyes had finally adjusted, and she could see the dark, blurry outline of Damian as he nodded his head.

"How did you do it?"

Okay, this was getting weird. Usually if Damian came this late and she was asleep, he left. Or if he had something important to say he left a note. But she couldn't, for the life of her, figure out why the hell knowing how she got sticky shit out of her hair was so important that he had to wake her up.

She supposed it didn't matter, considering the fact that she was still half asleep and had no idea how to answer his question.

"I dunno."

"What do you mean you don't know?" he asked harshly.

Yawing once again, Rowan took her glasses back off and laid back down.

"Ask me in the morning…" she said, eyes drifting closed.

She was almost asleep when Damian's stupid ass self decided it would be best to squeeze  _both_ of her sides while simultaneously picking her up and out of her bed.

The moment he set her down she turned around and slapped him in the stomach.

That turned out to be a mistake when said hand stuck.

"Um…"

She glanced quickly up at Damian, only to see him staring back at her through his mask. Silently, he picked up her blanket and used it to grip her wrist. He then yanked away her hand, heedless of the fact that he was  _ripping a thin layer of skin as he did so._

She screamed low in her throat, trying her best not to make any noise, and roughly wiped at the tears in her eyes when he let her go.

"What the hell…"

Damian simply sighed before speaking.

"Just get something to help."

She pierced her lips and turned her lamp on dim, so as not to wake her Gran and Mama.

She had no idea what the shit he seemed to have doused himself in was, but she went to get the only thing she thought would help: peanut butter.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Damian liked doing things by himself. There was just a certain feeling of adequacy one gained when they accomplished their goals by themselves.

Despite this, however, he knew that there were just some things that were done easier with help. Things like getting out of his uniform without ripping off all of his body hair.

He'd gotten the idea half way back home, when Jason had complained about the fact that his hair had stuck to the rim of his helmet. The very mention of the word 'hair' always brought Rowan to mind, simply because of the fact that she just had so damn much of it. His thoughts then branched out, and the many times that they'd gotten messy had been brought to the forefront of his mind.

Because of the rather disadvantageous height difference between them, he always seemed to end up pouring whatever it was that they were dealing with at the time (whether it be paint, flour, or fake blood) over her head. While he usually ended up with his torso and legs covered in unnecessary substances, Rowan always had her hair drenched. Despite this, the next time he saw her, her unruly curls always seemed to be free of filth and back to their normal frizz and bounce.

So he swallowed his pride and went to the only person he knew wouldn't be asinine about the situation. So far, he was firm on the fact that his idea had been a good one. Sure it hadn't been the easiest to get her out of bed, but he'd expected that. The younger girl tended to sleep rather deeply, but he knew how to steal her away from her dreams.

With a lengthy sigh, he attempted to rip away the blanket he'd used to get Rowan's hand unattached from his chest. He'd barely managed to separate the fibers from the fingers of his glove when Rowan came back through her door, shoulder slamming into the frame as she did so. He was so distracted by the way her face screwed up in pain that he almost missed the oversized jar of peanut butter she held in her tiny hands.

He just couldn't help himself.

"What on earth do you plan to do with that?"

She blithely ignored him and instead began unscrewing the cap.

"Rowan?" he asked, resisting the urge to grab her and make her pay attention to him.

She stopped momentarily and turned towards him with very bleary eyes. She simply stared at him, and he gathered from the look that she was still very much wanting to be asleep and was only just barely putting up with him.

That didn't mean that he was going to keep from questioning her, however.

"Well?"

"The oils will help," she murmured, eyes still on him even as she pried the lid off the jar.

Now that he thought about it, that made a weird kind of sense. He still doubted whether or not it would work though.

He remained silent, however, when she took a tiny amount of the nut paste and worked it under his glove, effectively removing the cloth from his skin. She gave him a pointed look, then put the jar in his hands.

"Get what you can off and then wake me up and I'll help with your hair and back in the bathroom. Just be quiet please," she said as she crawled back into her bed.

He was somewhat angry at himself for going so far out of his way when there was such a simple solution, but he couldn't really do anything at this point but go with it. Shaking his head, he resigned himself to smelling like peanuts for the next few days, and kept one eye on Rowan's door and the other on the sleeping girl herself.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The second time he woke her up, Rowan was more forgiving. But only slightly.

"Go into the bathroom and turn on the shower," she said without bothering to lift her head.

Blessedly intelligent boy that he was, he didn't even need to ask why. At this point, he had to be covered in sticky peanut butter, and she knew he would be glad to get clean after his entire night. Besides, out of everything, she really couldn't let him go home with stuff in his short hair. She knew the feeling of your hair feeling like a paint brush, and it was not a pleasant one.

With a tired groan, she forced herself to get up once again. She made sure to grab one of her larger shirts and a pair of shorts she'd stolen from Damian, and a set of clothes for herself before heading to the bathroom. When she got there, she quietly shut and locked the door behind her and prayed her Mama and Gran wouldn't notice anything. It was one thing for them to speak quietly in her room; it was another for them to be in the bathroom with the water running.

She grimaced when she noticed Damian already had said water on and was in the tub scrubbing at his arms and legs with her soap. Deciding to just get it over as quickly as possible, she set the clothes she'd brought in a corner, and stepped up onto the edge of her bath tub, clutching Damian's half clothed shoulder for balance.

He'd managed to get the bottom part of his uniform off, and had grabbed a pair of shorts out of her drawer. The lack of mess inside her drawers indicated that he'd known exactly where to look and had grabbed them quickly had her wondering how he knew about her secret stash of clothes she'd stolen from him and Tim. That, however, was a question for another time. Preferably a time when she was not ready to fall face first into the tub to get some sleep.

Right now she had to focus on helping him wash his hair and not laughing at the fact that he had the bottom of his shirt flipped up as the rest stuck stubbornly to his torso. He probably could have just ripped it off if it wasn't for the fact that he actually had a light sprinkling of hair across his chest and that  _probably_ would have hurt.

Okay so maybe she laughed.

"What the hell's so funny?"

She would definitely not say the wrong thing. She was standing on the edge of a tub with water running and only a nearly pissed off wet friend to hold onto. If she made said friend fully pissed off she would most likely fall.

"Male puberty."

Okay so she said the wrong thing but  _he couldn't take his clothes off because if he did it would rip off his chest hair._ There was nothing _not_ funny about that.

Before he could say anything, however, her  _Mama_ did.

"Rowan what the hell are you doing up?"

She could feel her heart nearly jump into her throat and she stared at Damian frantically hoping he could see the panic in her eyes. She honestly had no idea what to do at this point.

"You weren't feeling good so you called me to see if I was up and I was. I recommend you take hot a shower, and since neither of us were going to sleep you took your phone with you and put it on speaker," he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

She hated lying, but she had no other choice at this point. It was either that or have her Mama walk in on a  _very misleading_ situation and possibly murder both her and Damian. So she repeated what Damian had told her, and thanked every higher power she could think of when her Mama actually  _believed her_.

"Are you okay baby? What's wrong?"

She was so going to hell for this.

"I was just cramping a little bit from practice, the water's helping."

There was silence for a second, and Rowan held her breath.

"Okay, you want me to stay up with you?"

"No thank you, I'm fine. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay baby, night. Tell Damian he should get to bed soon too."

Rowan glanced nervously and shook her head when she noticed his slight smirk.

"M'kay..."

And just like that Rowan could hear her Mama padding away, and then the not so silent click of her door.

"Well that was close," Damian drawled beside her.

She did tried her hardest to pin him with her best doubled chinned I'm disgusted with you face.

"That's one of the ugliest expressions I've ever seen you make."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Good."

She ignored him for the next 20 minutes as she worked peanut butter down the back of his shirt while thoroughly getting soaked in the process.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When Damian disappears, Tim generally doesn't worry too much about it. The boy was more than capable of handling himself, so why should he stress himself out over nothing? Granted, Dick and Bruce had a whole different opinion, but frankly, he didn't give a damn.

However, while he knew Damian could take care of himself, he also knew Rowan  _couldn't._  Which was a big problem considering the fact that when Damian disappeared, a good 70% of the time he was with the younger girl.

Now he wasn't saying she was incompetent, as she was quite the clever little thing when she wanted to be. No, it had more to do with the simple fact that while Damian could take care of himself, more often than not he  _had to_. To put it simply, trouble was drawn to Damian like bees to honey. And the green eyed boy embraced it with open arms. Whatever danger came to him, he faced head on, which was just something Rowan  _could not do._

So when Damian shows up not an hour later, more disgruntled than he'd been when they'd gotten home, Tim knows something's not right. Usually Rowan was the one who calmed him down, not shook him up. He wanted to call her to see what was wrong, but when he went to do so, he realized one important thing: it was 4 am. While Rowan did normally stay up well into the early morning hours, even she was usually asleep by about 3.

He contemplated waking her up, but thought better of it. After the disaster that had been the Batfamily's (As he'd affectionately dubbed their get together time.) night out, he was tired, dirty, and way to disgruntled to do anything but stare at his ceiling. The night had started off with a routine surveillance mission, and had ended with some new, experimental, disgusting, sticky as hell compound. Not the best way to end the night for sure.

Which was why he was not surprised when he fell asleep lying on his floor. He  _was_  surprised, however, when he woke up to a tiny foot nudging his side. He was mildly confused, of course, but once he realized it was Rowan, he calmed down slightly.

He freaked out again when she told him she was there to help him get off his suit, though.

"Its fine, Damian wanted help last night, I figured you could use some too," she says flippantly as she flops down on the floor in front of his bed.

He can't find the will to argue when he lifts his arm and his skin is pulled into its most uncomfortable position yet.

"Ergh, just let me try it. I'm sure I can get it off."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Rowan stood, hand covering her mouth as Tim attempted to peel of his suit.

Well, more accurately, she stood trying not to laugh as Tim yanked at his suit while getting everything stuck to him in the process.

After another two minutes of watching him stick and unstick his poor hand to his back where his zipper was, she decided to take pity on him.

Slowly, as to not startle her incredibly irritated friend, she walked up to him and poked lightly at his side. Even the tiny pad of her finger stuck to the material, and she winced as she pulled it away. It was like ripping skin away from super glue.

"Don't touch it!" The irate boy snapped at her. On instinct Rowan went to pinch him, but thought better of it at the last second and instead stuck her tongue out at him.

"I just wanted to see if you needed some help, geez."

His ears momentarily went red and Rowan smiled lightly. And he said  _she_  was the one with the dirty mind.

"Err, that's fine. I can do it."

She watched him struggle for a couple more seconds before sighing and stepping up on the bed behind him. She used the bottom of her hoodie to move his hand and she grasped the stupid zipper and yanked as hard as she could. It moved down about an inch.

"Rowan!" Tim called in indignation.

She rolled her eyes and refrained from pointing that he'd have no problem if  _Connor_  was the one doing it. And then that exact image formed in her mind and she blushed crimson.

"Shuddup and hold still..." She mumbled, pulling on the zipper some more.

He turned to give her a look so she jiggled his zipper and looked right back. After a second of staring and one arched eyebrow on her part, he finally turned back around with a nod and left her to it.

So she jiggled and yanked and zipped back up and then back down in an attempt to get his stupid skin tight suit off but whatever he was covered in was making the job damn near impossible. Narrowing her eyes, she braced one foot on the bed and lifted her knee and sort of dug it into his back to get enough grounding so that she could put her weight into it.

He didn't even grunt at her kneecap digging into his spine.

' _Stupid spandex wearing superhero nerd,'_  she thought to herself.

After a while and a few frustrated sighs, Tim tried to speak.

"Maybe you could-"

He was cut off as a quiet 'zip' sounded and Rowan was faced with an expanse of pale skin.

The phrase  _lily white_ flitted through her mind and she tried not to giggle.

After she unattached her hoodie from his zipper, he all but ripped the material off and Rowan blinked at the sight of red, irritated skin. He turned around and smiled at her before realizing that he was now bare chested, pink nipples exposed for all to see. It didn't bother her since Damian had changed in front of her often enough, but Tim still looked embarrassed.

She couldn't help but glance down and she noticed that his chest was completely bare, and it didn't look as if it was the fault of his damn near bikini waxing suit. Now that she thought about it, he'd never really had arm hair from what she could remember.

"I think Damian has more body hair than you do." She said before she could stop herself.

It took her a moment to realize what she'd said, and when she did her faced burned hot and she covered her mouth with her hand. He looked surprised more than anything, but she was still embarrassed as hell.

She jumped off his bed and walked quickly out of the room.

"I'll come back in 30 minutes to help you with your hair." She called, and then desperately went in search of Titus.

Titus was her saving grace, as he seemed to be the only one in the world who  _couldn't_  make her blush.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

While his suit had taken most of the damage, some of the slime had still found its way onto his skin. As a result, Tim felt absolutely disgusting. He tried not to grimace as the steaming water simply slid over his skin, leaving the sticky substance behind. He glanced at the heavy duty soap next to him and took a breath, then picked it up and scrubbed. While the stuff seemed to work on his skin (Though not without leaving behind red marks from the abrasive texture.), it hadn't helped with his hair.

Truth be told, he'd actually been hoping the hot water would somehow magically wash the adhesive away so that Rowan wouldn't have to help him, but it seemed that was not the case.

Just then, he heard a soft knock on the door.

_'Speak of the Devil...'_  He thought to himself.

Sighing, he turned the water off and got out. He didn't want to use a towel, as the cloth would only stick and make his situation worse, so he simply dried off his body and threw his clothes on as quickly as possible, and then put the towel over his shoulders so that his hair wouldn't soak his shirt.

When he walked out, he noticed that she was sitting on his bed, eating a rather large muffin.

"Feeling better?" she asked.

"Yeah, Alfred make muffins?"

The chocolate one she was holding looked pretty good, and after the night he'd had he was really hungry.

Almost immediately the smile dropped off of her face and she looked at him suspiciously, pulling her food closer to her body.

"I'm not gonna take it Ro, calm down," he sighed, rolling his eyes.

She relaxed slightly, but felt the need to stuff the entire rest of the muffin into her mouth anyway.

"You're greedy, you know that?"

She simply grinned at him, and hopped off of his bed to walk towards his bathroom. He simply followed her.

"So how're we doing this?" he asked her as she fiddled with the nobs of his shower.

Once again, she grinned at him. He watched, amused as she reached into her bag and pulled out a jar of….

"Peanut butter?"

"You know, Damian was surprised too."

He stared at her for a second, not quite ready to comprehend the simplicity of her solution. The entire situation was just a testament to how tired everyone seemed to be. Eventually, however, he got over it and sat down on the edge of the bathtub next to her.

"Whatever, let's just get this over with so I can get some sleep."

She hummed lightly as she poked lightly at his hair.

"You got something to do tonight?"

He was hesitant to tell her, but found the words coming out anyway.

"Date with Conner. I'm not the only one, Damian's going out with Lian. It's not like it's a big deal."

He had no idea why he'd added the last part. Tim glanced at her only to see a slightly raised eyebrow and an odd expression he couldn't help but ask after. Evidently something was wrong, especially since her hands had stilled.

"Since when do you have a problem with Conner?"

At that, her hands started moving again and she shook her head.

"It's not Conner…" she said quietly.

"Then… Lian?" he asked in confusion.

She'd never had a problem with the girls Damian had dated before, and he didn't see why she would start now.

"Well?" he asked again when she didn't answer and simply continued with her duty of working peanut butter through his hair. Wow, that image really bothered him.

"It's not that… It's just… It's nothing. Forget it."

He turned towards her, and caught her eye. She knew better than to say things like that to him. They were locked in a staring contest for a fair amount of time before she gave in.

"They just don't do well together."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed, and backed up.

"When Damian's with Lian… He get's…"

She looked down abruptly, and pursed her lips. He sat patiently, waiting for her to find her words.

"When Damian's with Lian, he just gets… Worse," she eventually got out.

"Worse how? You're going to have to be a bit more specific here Ro."

She shrugged, and sat down on the toilet lid beside him.

"You know Damian. You know how he is."

As hostile as they were to each other, Tim did know Damian. He knew enough of the younger boy to know that 'how he is' included many things. The most relevant thing, however, was hard to ignore.

"The violence?"

She nodded, and then pulled her knees up to her chest. He had no idea how that was comfortable considering the space she had to sit on, but he didn't bother her.

"I don't know… It's like, Damian and Lian, they're too similar. Damian by himself can get pretty vicious, and from what he's told me of Lian, she can too. When they're together, it's like… I don't know they sort of feed off of each other's ferocity. It's like just being near her riles him up. I guess he likes the idea of having someone who thinks the same way as he does. Or maybe it's just that he likes one upping her. Whatever it is, he's always… I don't know, rougher. It seems like he cares less about people. It just… Bothers me…"

He'd noticed that sometime ago, but he'd thought he was the only one. Sometimes, Rowan managed to surprise even him.

"I know what you mean."

"It doesn't bother you?" she asked him, head tilted.

She was wearing an unintelligible expression again, and not knowing what it meant was really starting to get on his nerves again.

"Why would it bother me?"

In reality it irked him to no end how poisonous the girl was for Damian, but it really wasn't any of his business. Damian may not have needed any more bad influences in his already wrecked life, but Tim was in no position to tell him that.

Rowan was smiling softly now, a sad edge cooling her features.

"You tell me."

He wasn't going to deal with this. Not now, not today.

"You know what, you're right. When Damian's with her he gives less of a damn about his actions then he usually does. I know sometimes when we're messing around he ends up bruising you, but after spending time with her he stops caring as much. If I were you I'd ask your mama about how to cover those up, she gets enough of them on her neck from her  _necklaces_ that she should know, don't you think?"

And just like that Rowan's expression smoothed into a sort of icy façade that he'd only seen a few times. Sometimes he wished he didn't see as much as he did.

"You're right. I don't know why Mama keeps wearing those necklaces."

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, we're talking about Damian here, and the boy is insane. He's a self entitled little shit, but you've got to love him. In this chapter, that's pretty evident.
> 
>  
> 
> Okay, I'm making a bigger deal out of this then I should, but here are the warnings. There not as dire as I make it seem, but I don't want to accidentally trigger anyone :p
> 
> Warning: underage drinking, mentions of underage sexual situations

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Rowan liked to think that she knew Damian fairly well. And in tandem, she liked to think Damian was more than familiar with her. It is for this reason that she trusted him explicitly, which is why she doesn't bat an eyelash when he sits behind her while she's reading Go Fetch! by Shelley Laurenston.

But it  _is_  still his birthday (Well technically it's 1 am, and the next day, but as far as she's concerned birthdays are meant to last all week.), and he's black and blue. So she did the logical thing and asked if he'd had a fight with Tim again. He ignored her with a glare. That practically confirmed her assumptions, however, and she had the intense urge to ask him about his marks. But she trusted him enough to respect his privacy and his decision to not tell her, so she decided to bother Tim about it later. After all, while she trusted him and his decisions, she doesn't trust that he won't make  _stupid ass_  ones. Which he does. Often.

So she continued to read. Even as she got to the part that involved sexual things, she still didn't pause. Damian had made it a habit of reading over her shoulder, and if she blushed every time he did so, then she was fairly sure she'd be dead by now from all the blood rushing to her head. So, eventually she'd conditioned herself not to overheat every time her books or fanfictions happened to get steamy and Damian was reading with her.

Okay well maybe she got a little red, but come on.

But for the most part, she got over it. This particular book, however, she'd not had a chance to even glimpse through, as her Mama had been home all day. So despite the fact that it was a common occurrence, and that she trusted Damian more than anything, she still nearly died when she got to a part where the main character talks about her vibrator and Damian  _says something._

"What do you think vibrators feel like?"

She could feel her jaw drop and her face turn red as she scrambled for something to say.

"I, Um, I mean, it, I,  _what_?"

Eloquence had never been her strong suit.

His face was passive and she had the feeling that he was trying to distract himself from whatever was on his mind, so she made the mistake of saying the first thing that was on her's.

"If you want to distract yourself drink or something, Jesus," is what she ends up mumbling.

She doesn't mean it but it sounded good in her head. Hell, anything sounded better than telling Damian what she thought a  _vibrator_  felt like. There are a lot of things she has no problem talking/reading about. Her self was not one of them. Especially herself in relation to anything sexual.

In the end though, she doesn't expect what happens next: Damian looks thoughtful, and then he walks right out of her room, and comes back with a bottle of her Gran's favorite wine, which he then pops open and drinks straight from the bottle.

"Did you just break into Gran's wine cabinet?" is all she can get out; because she just  _cannot believe_  Damian is sitting in her room downing a bottle of wine on his 14th birthday looking like he just went four rounds with a wrecking ball.

"What do you think?" He asked sarcastically.

She doesn't feel the need to answer.

Eventually when the bottle was almost gone, he looked back at her.

"Do you want some?" He inquired.

Rowan didn't hesitate.

"Hell no. You shouldn't even be drinking that. What if you get drunk? Or get alcohol poisoning?"

She was worried and she couldn't help it.

He laughed.

"I'm not drunk."

And then he frowned. And then he got up, and cameback with her Mama's vodka. Specifically the bottle she kept hidden with her steamy romances and never really drinks. Even more specifically the bottle no one is supposed to know about because it just does not look good for one to keep such a hard bottle of liquor hidden in the closet.

"Damian no," is all she could whisper as she watched the train wreck in front of her.

He looked at her, then at the bottle.

"Damian yes," he whispered back.

She wanted to slap him for being a patronizing bitch.

She wanted Tim to be here even more, because unlike her, he knew how to get situations to go the way he wanted them to. Most of the time at least.

A bottle of vodka and an hour later, Rowan had started to realize that Damian had an iron constitution. Idly she wondered if this is the first time he'd done something like that. She then decides that, no, it probably wasn't. No newbie could throw back that much alcohol and not be fucked up from the floor up. Because seriously, the boy drank an entire bottle of wine, then an entire bottle of vodka and he  _was still fucking fine_.

Well, sort of. He looked waaay more relaxed and they'd been talking about stupidity for the last hour. Specifically him suddenly deciding that he wanted to do every stupid fucking thing he could think of. (I.e. Drugs and sex because apparently he suddenly decided to be a stereotypical teenager. Except early, because yah, the dumbass was only 14.)

So far she'd talked him out of the drugs. (In all honesty she didn't think he was serious about that anyway. He may have been the biggest ass she'd ever met, but he wasn't stupid.)

And for a second she thought he was drunk.

Then he opened his mouth and she knew for a fact that he was absolutely trashed.

"There was a pretty brunette girl at school who'd been after me for a while. She was kind of desperate, so I decided to take pity on her."

She gave him an offended look so that he knew just how much of an absolute asshole he was.

"You took her on a date?" she found herself asking. This was normal, comfortable. They talked about his love life and she laughed while he scowled. Perfectly typical.

"Somewhat. We attempted to watch a movie in her home and she ended up performing fellatio."

That, however, was not.

"She  _what_."

At this point Rowan knew that her face was hot enough to fry an egg on, and she suddenly had trouble getting air into her lungs without choking.

Damian turned his green eyes towards her and she could see how glassy they were, but for the first time in a long time he didn't seem to be hiding behind anything and she just knew it was going to be a long, horrifying night.

"Fellatio. Oral sex. She sucked my dick." At the last word he nearly giggled as Rowan tries not to die on the spot.

She still fell over though.

She could feel the bed dip when Damian put one knee down, and she bounced when he let himself fall back beside her. The boy was dense and her bed couldn't help but shake with his weight.

She glanced over at him , only to see that there was a slight frown on his face. She wondered why, and then he started talking again and-

'Oh my God,' is all she could think.

"It wasn't bad. It wasn't good either. I think I came too quickly. It was rather disappointing. I suppose I should work on my stay time, hmm?"

Rowan was desperately scrubbing at her face at this point and, holy shit did he actually want an answer?

"Wrmmphh," is all she managed to get out as she buried her face in her pillow.

Damian turned her over and stared at her expectantly so she did the logical thing: she put her hand on his face and pushed. His head went back slightly and she could feel his breath, warm on her palm, before he licked her. She wrinkled her nose but didn't give up. She was stronger than that.

Well, she was until he smiled beneath her hand and then niped at her. When he did that, she squeaked and smacked him in the face. Considering his nightly activities and her jelly arms, she spared nothing when she did so. He flicked her cheek in retaliation and so she poked him in the belly button. Hard.

Asshole didn't even flinch.

The friendly hitting had managed to get her blush down, and she could tell that Damian was getting sleepy. Seeing her chance, she rolled back over and tried to close her eyes. Maybe if she was lucky, Damian's drunk ass would fall asleep. There was blessed silence for all of 10 minutes, and then-

"Sparring with Drake was fun. The way his sweat and blood mixed was satisfying; he has an excellent physic. I wanted to lick it off to see what it tasted like."

As if this wasn't startling enough, he continued with more things she never really wanted to know.

"I want to try sucking cock. Or eating a girl out. That kind of power over someone sounds interesting."

At that point she was embarrassed enough to want to slam her face into a wall and tell him to  _never ever tell anyone else that,_ and pretty much just to do anything  _other_  than have the conversation, because holy hell Damian's issues were starting to evolve. He used to only want to beat Tim for the hell of it, now it seemed as if he derived some kind of  _pleasure_ from it.

Instead, she settled for sitting silently and still as possible for the next 30 minutes. In this time, she tried not to think about the fact that Damian was probably going to end up as a sexual sadist. It didn't work and she instead got images of emerald eyes, blood, and a devilish smirk.

In truth, the entire situation was a mess. Usually on 14th birthdays, people were overjoyed and celebrated the fact that they'd gotten their Soul Marks. No one knew exactly why or how people got them, but there were just some things in the world that couldn't be explained. Some scientists speculated that the marks were left over from the days when people needed to be more compatible in order to have more children, but that didn't account for the same sex pairings, or the slightly rarer trios. Nor did it give a reason for those people whose Soul Mate had someone else's mark.

No one mark was the same, which was nice in a way. The font, color, and size reflected the person it belonged to, making it easier to find said person. Rowan always thought that was the best thing about the marks. Some of the guys on her baseball team had shown off theirs, and she'd seen plain, simple cursive, as well as letters shaped like lightning bolts. Her Gran's was a vivid blue that matched her late husband's eyes and still stood out on her weathered skin, even to this day. Her Gran told her that her Grandpa's mark had been wrapped in rose vines, an ironic play on the woman's own name. Rowan found beauty in those differences, even if she didn't hold much faith in the mark's themselves. She wondered what Damian's looked like, but knew from the situation that it would be extremely difficult to even mention them at the moment.

Once she realized Damian wass passed out, she picked up her phone and prayed Tim was awake so that she could distract herself from the fact that one of her best friends wass crude as hell and passed out drunk in her bed.  _At 14._ God that made it so much worse. It made everything so, so much worse.

Tim was pissed and sore by the time he got away from Damian. The entire confrontation went pretty much the way he'd imagined, but the pain in his body stilled surprised him. If he had to be honest with himself, though, it wasn't just his body that was hurt. Was being with him really such an appalling idea?

Not that he actually wanted to be with Damian of course. Because that was just wrong. In so many ways. Which was why he hadn't broached the subject once he'd learned of it. But still, it hurt a guy's ego pretty badly when one of his soul mates was so offended by the thought of being with him that he attempted to beat him half to death.

Tim shivered. He'd never really acknowledged Damian as his soul mate until today, when the kid figured it out and put his fist in Tim's face.

'Dammit.' He thought as he fell back into his bed.

When he'd first got his Soul Marks, he'd been beside himself trying to figure out what to do. After a while, he'd eventually decided to put it off to think about later, when he could face the fact that Damian was one of the people he was meant to be with. Sure, Rowan seemed to be trying to push them together for some ungodly reason, but she was a whole other enigma that he was  _still_ trying to work out. He'd reasoned that he could work on trying to figure out who his other Soul Mate was, which would be significantly harder considering his second mark was nothing more than a 'Hello' in lettering that nearly blended into the skin on the back of his neck. He'd been unfortunate enough to get one of the most generic greetings in the world. The irony of it all had not been lost on him. He had one Soul Mate that hated him and another who would be impossible to find.

After a few weeks, he'd simply decided to move on. After all, Connor had shown interest… And he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been interested as well. Besides, he was pretty sure the first thing Connor had said to him had been hello… After all, what could it hurt? Damian had been blasting through girlfriends already anyway. Tim didn't know exactly what it was that he did with them, but he figured pretty soon it wouldn't exactly be innocent. He only hoped the boy had the good grace to not do anything too stupid. All in all Tim had basically been stalling.

Except he'd stalled too long. Days had turned into weeks, weeks into months, months had turned into years, and finally Damian had turned 14 and now he was forced to deal with his issues.

He ran his hand through his hair and groaned. This was a mess. A gigantic freaking mess. He was exhausted, sore, and he really didn't want to have another face off with an angry Damian in the morning. Just as he was about to roll over and go to sleep, however, his phone vibrated. Sighing, he rolled over and checked it. It was Rowan.

'What'd U do 2 Damian?'

Tim rolled his eyes. Of course Damian had gone over to Rowan's. Vexed, he lifted up his shirt and snapped a picture of the nasty bruise forming on his torso. He sent it to her with a caption:

'More like what did Damian do 2 me?'

It was a few minutes before he got a reply.

'What happened?'

The light from his phone was hurting his tired eyes, so he turned the brightness down before replying.

'What did HE tell U happened?'

'Doesn't matter,' she'd texted, 'I want ur version.'

He rolled his eyes. That most likely meant he hadn't told her anything. Tim didn't exactly know how he felt about Rowan knowing. After a second, he decided that as always, he'd tell her and she'd be the neutral party. He snorted, it was kind of sad that he had to resort to having a 12 year old fix his problems. But then again, this was Rowan. The girl had always been able to sort out the tangled relationship he had with the green eyed devil.

'Is he still there?'

There was a pause of a few seconds before he got a picture. The image showed Damian, nearly black and blue as he was, sleeping on Rowan's bed. Tim had no idea how she'd gotten that picture without waking Damian up.

'He's asleep.'

'Fine, I was going to call you, but I don't want to chance that demon waking up.'

'He's not a demon.'

Tim scoffed.

'He beat me half 2 death. I think something might be broken.'

'Why were you 2 fighting in the 1st place?'

Tim faltered slightly before typing. He might as well get it all out in one fowl swoop.

'He got his SM and figured out we were mates.'

The reply was quicker than he expected.

'Why didn't U tell him?'

'What makes U think I knew?'

'U where avoiding him for a month after ur 14th BDay.'

'Maybe I was just mad at him for something else.'

He could imagine the deadpan look she would be giving him right now.

'Maybe ur full of shit.'

He laughed, then immediately regretted it as the action made his ribs throb. He always forgot how vulgar she could be when not in person.

'I just didn't tell him okay? Then when he found out, he was offended.'

'Were u offended?'

That made him pause. Was he? Was he really so offended by the idea of Damian as a significant other. The thought made him wrinkle his nose. Damian was only 14… But then again, that was only a two year age gap. Damian was growing up. At 14 he was already pretty tall, going through the gears of puberty. But there was also the issue that they were legally brothers, but then again that would be overturned the moment they registered as Soul Mates. If they ever did.

'It's complicated.'

'Ur complicated.'

She made him feel so juvenile sometimes.

'Ur weird.'

'U wear spandex.'

'U read bad fanfics.'

'Ur life is a bad fanfic.'

Tim laughed.

'Maybe ur right.'

'Wait, no, I take it back. You and Dami didn't have hate sex. You guys no longer get to be bad fanfic.'

Tim choked and tried not to be too shocked.

'Hate sex?'

'Yeah. All the best fics have hate sex. You guys need to bang.'

The images in Tim's head were very vivid and he felt extremely disgusting for having them.

'ROWEN.'

'Wat.'

'NO.'

'What'd I do?'

'I'm going to sleep.'

'What? Why.?'

'Goodnight Rowan.'

If he didn't reply, she wouldn't be encouraged. Minutes passed by, and Tim figured he was safe.

'I still think you guys should have hot hate sex. He's horny as hell anyway.'

Tim probably should have known better. He sighed, and tried to ignore the fact that Rowan thought Damian was horny. Gah, the entire situation was just disturbing.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Underage Sexual Content? (Idk man it’s just a kiss and a comment, nothing big.)  
> Anyway, thanks for the feedback guys. More is always welcome, haha.. Enjoy :3

It takes a week for him to calm down. It takes a week of carefully scheduled visits, late nights, and surly behavior. A week of awkward conversations, clipped words, and cool looks.   
  
By the end of the week Damian's okay, but Rowan's not. She's not because she hasn't heard from Tim in a week, and that means something. What, she doesn't know, but it definitely means something.   
  
Especially because in the time it took Damian to figure himself out, the older boy hadn't called once.   
  
He hadn't called once, and she knows it's not her fault, but it hurts anyway.  
  
It's a new kind of pain, and she doesn't like it. Somehow it hurts more than physical wounds, and that's saying something considering the number of times she'd been hit with baseballs and/or bats.   
  
It feels ugly and foreign, so she deals with it the only way she knows how. She tells herself to get over it and tells her boys she wants to do something, and so they _both_ should come over.   
  
Except it's not as easy as that. Feelings, she learns, are not so effortlessly pushed aside. Rowan had never been faced with the prospect of being ignored by her closest friends; in truth the only people she truly trusted.   
  
No, she wasn't used to the feeling at all. And because of that, because of her lack of defense, the feeling consumed her. Suddenly, every insecurity she'd never had seemed to rise to the forefront of her mind.   
  
What if Tim was mad at her?  
  
What if she'd gone too far with what she'd said?  
  
What if she'd teased too much?  
  
What if she'd been too nosey?  
  
What if he didn't like her anymore?  
  
What if Damian thought the same?  
  
What if?What if?What if?  
  
Because of the nagging doubt that was consuming her thoughts, it takes her days to work up the nerve to punch in Tim's number. Yes, only days opposed to Damian's week, but days nonetheless.   
  
Days, and some hours that seem to slip away so that when she sends Tim a tentative message, the sun has long since set and the darkness is there to hide her fears.   
  
It's around 1 am, but his reply is quick and suddenly she can breathe again.   
  
'Hey, what's up?'  
  
The simple sentence makes her smile and she is quick to send her reply. As far as she's concerned, waiting games are for dumb asses. If she has the phone in her hand, she's going to reply.   
  
'I'm bored.'  
  
Simple sentences are her thing, and usually Tim is good at inferring what she means. She hopes he will this time.   
  
She hopes, but she thinks maybe he won't. Maybe he won't understand. Maybe he doesn't want to. Maybe he doesn't care enough to.   
  
Maybe.Maybe.Maybe  
  
'Want me 2 come over?'  
  
Her heart's not beating double time anymore and she smiles.   
  
'Yeah'  
  
'What do you want to do?'   
  
She settles for a moment, not quite sure. She hadn't gotten to that far with her plan. The only idea she comes up with is farfetched, but it's the only thing she can think of that gives the boys enough space, while also keeping them all together.   
  
'U promised 2 take me ice skating'  
  
'It's 1 am it's not going 2 B open'  
  
He's right of course, but she figures that at least she's getting him to talk so it's okay if they postpone it until tomorrow.   
  
But before she can tell him so, he sends her something else.   
  
'Never mind, don't worry about. I'll be over in 20'  
  
She's silent for a moment, but decides to go with it. At this point she'll take what she can get. But she does have to add one more thing.   
  
'Kk, we have to wait 4 Damian cuz he won't be here 4 45min'  
  
She almost thinks he won't text back.   
  
'Okay'  
  
Somehow his simple reply makes her worry more. 

Funny how that works.  
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.  
  
It's about 1:30 in the morning when he begins to make his way to Rowan's house, and gets the idle thought that if he'd been anyone else, if _she’d_ been anyone else, he probably would've gotten arrested for this kind of thing by now.   
  
But he's not, and she's not, so when she texts him in her awkward, hesitant way, he sorts through everything she doesn't say and comes up with a crazy plan to fulfill a promise they'd both forgotten about until she'd remembered it and used it to 'trick' him into getting over himself.   
  
And he knew that was her intent.   
  
She had it in her head that it was her job to be the referee between him and Damian, and he hadn't had the heart to tell her to just leave them be before she hurt herself.   
  
He hadn't had the heart, because honestly? She was the only one he'd seen who could figure out how to talk them both down with little more than an utterance of their names and a couple weak jabs.   
  
Well with him at least. With Damian it was more of a 'stare him down and see if he'll actually hit me' kind of thing. Dangerous, but Damian hadn't ever actually hit her. He still feared for Rowan's safety when Damian got into his more sour moods. A few cracked ribs and missing bo staffs had taught him not to take the younger boy’s ire so lightly. Rowan had never learned.  
  
And it's odd, the feeling he gets. The slick, burning anger he feels is far too familiar for his liking, and he hates it all the more for the fact that he doesn't know who it's directed at.   
  
At certain times, he's angry of the relationship Damian has with Rowan; jealous of the ease the younger girl seemed to handle him with. Envious because that was supposed to be his job. He was supposed to be the reliant one, the one that solved problems; not the one they centered around. He was supposed to be the one who was able to handle Damian, his Soul Mate, and all the issues that came with him.  
  
On the other hand, he thinks of all the time Damian's spending with _their_ younger friend and he all he wants to do is wedge his way back into their dynamic so that things would go back to the way they used to be. Yes, he's mad that the tiny girl stole all of Damian's time, but he was also irked by the fact that Damian stole all of _her’s_. He doesn’t know how to feel about that.  
  
Young as she was, Rowan always seemed to be able mesh well with his personality. He worried about that, and he knew there was a reason for her sharpness, but he never questioned it. She listened to him speak and tried her best to give him input beyond her age. In return he did the same. She gave him a breather from his hectic life. And yes, she made him act more immaturely sometimes, but _God_ did he need it. With all the serious shit he put up with every night, he needed a little senseless foolery to keep him grounded, and he could freely admit that.   
  
Simply put, he missed her.   
  
He missed her, and so when she texts, he sends a message back and doesn't hesitate at the opportunity to see her even though he knows Damian probably needs space.   
  
The green eyed boy had to have known Rowan would invite him, and if he wanted any more space than he just wouldn't show up.   
  
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.  
  
When he slips through the window around 3 am, he almost forgets all about the mark that stands defiantly against his collarbone.   
  
Rowan's propped up on the floor against her bed in a familiar hoodie and scuffed up Converse, reading something on her iPod. Tim's sitting on the bed above her, absentmindedly flicking the end of her braid between his fingertips in a wrinkled button up and Vans that are just as damaged, if not more so than Rowan's chucks.   
  
The sight is familiar, and he can't help but stride over and take his place beside her. Immediately he notices Tim tense before relaxing, and he has half a mind to call him out on it.   
  
So the older boy was his Soul Mate, big deal. If Tim wanted to be anywhere near worthy enough for him, then the pale bastard would have to work for it.   
  
"Drake-" he starts, bitter words already rising on their own accord.   
  
It's undignified, and he's glad when Rowan reaches out and pushes four of her fingers into his ribs, pointed little tips first. It doesn't hurt, but it's her version of 'shut the fuck up'.  
  
Actually, 'shut the fuck up' is also her version of 'shut the fuck up'. This is just one of its more silent variants.   
  
He decides then and there to ignore anything about his marks for the rest of the night.   
  
"So Rowan said we're going skating. Just how do you plan to do that this late at night?" he inquires.   
  
They could walk to the nearest rink and break in. It's what he would have done, but he doubts that's what Tim has in mind. The older boy was against Rowan going out at night, what with all the criminals out and about. That and breaking into a place just for fun was probably against his outdated morals.   
  
"There's a rink about two blocks away; it shouldn't be too hard to get in," Tim says casually from above them.   
  
Damian was sure his brows must have hit his hairline, because damn if he wasn't surprised.   
  
Apparently Rowan was too.   
  
"Really?" She asks quietly, finally looking up from her phone. He catches the title of her reading material, and concludes that it's some type of fanfiction. He'd have to talk to her about that later. He'd already told her the often poorly edited stories were a waste of her time.   
  
"Yeah, we'll have to leave now though. It's already 3:00 and I want to get you back by at least 5:00. Your Mom gets home at 6:00 am doesn’t she?" Tim replies, already up and pulling on his own sweatshirt.   
  
When Rowan nods her agreement, Tim slips out of the window, and Damian follows suit. They try not to make it a habit to take Rowan out at night too often, but sometimes it happens. Her window isn't exactly hard for them to get in and out of, but she's not quite as used to it as they are.   
  
So when they decide to have a nocturnal escapade, there's an unspoken rule that they go out first, and then Rowan pretty much jumps out and it's up to them to catch her. The first few times the small girl had been freaked out beyond belief and the process had always taken almost half an hour. Now she trusted then a little more, though she was still a little rattled when one of them caught her.   
  
As they'd practiced, when it's time for her to come down,  she climbs down as far as she can, then simply falls backwards, feet together and arms tucked to her front.   
  
Since Damian had always been the smaller of the two of them, it was his job to catch her, and Tim's to stand at his back and make sure he didn't fall back. He'd never fallen back of course, but they both knew the extra support put Rowan a little more at ease. 

At the rate that he’s growing though, Damian thinks that they may end up switching places soon.   
  
Her eyes were still squeezed shut and she let out a soft squeal when she hit his arms, though. Damian waited a good twenty seconds for her it steady her breathing before carefully setting her on the ground and making his way around the small complex that held Rowan's entire life.   
  
"So are we going to the rink that's a block east of the park, or the one five and a half blocks north of our current location?" he shoots back at Tim, all the while keeping his eyes sharp. The streets are deserted, but he'd learned that in Gotham, things aren't always what they seemed.   
  
"If we go through the alleyways from here we can reach the one north of here in about 15 minutes. If we go by the park it should take us about twenty minutes to get there. It'll take longer, but the park route is more open," the older boy muses at loud.   
  
Damian glances back, sees the way that Tim has his hand protectively rested on Rowan's head, palm up, and nods his consent. 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

By the time they’re ten minutes into their walk, Rowan finds her way onto Tim’s back and she can’t help but compulsively braid his hair. It’s pretty dark and she can barely see, but she’s close enough. The fact that Tim lets her tells her that he’s not mad at her. The fact that he lets her also tells her that he knows just how nervous she is at the moment.

“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly. Damian’s far enough ahead of them that he doesn’t hear. She thinks that the distance Tim had put between them was for that very purpose. Though she doesn’t like the fact that he can tell she’s not all there, she does like that the space between the two boys isn’t something more worrying.

She almost doesn’t tell him. But she’s been chewing herself out all day, and she just can’t let herself have it all be for nothing.

“He doesn’t hate you,” she whispers too him, all the while trying not to pull out the silky black strands she has held in a death grip. She hates how nervous she is, but she can’t help it.

He doesn’t tense and she takes this as a good sign.

“Damian may not hate me, but he sure as hell doesn’t like me, Ro,” he says back just as quietly.

 _‘It’s not that_ ,’ she wants to say. ‘ _It’s not that he doesn’t like you, and you know it. You know he just doesn’t know how to show his feelings properly. If he didn’t like you he wouldn’t spend as much time with you as he does. You know that,’_ she wants to scream at him.

But at the same time, she doesn’t want to tell him. She doesn’t want to tell him because he’ll ask how she knows that. He’ll ask how she can see the tiny tells and right now, she doesn’t know how to answer him.

So she pulls his hair instead, settles when he yelps in protest and Damian turns around. She can feel the tight knot in her stomach loosening once and for all when Damian gives his usual smirk and scoff and Tim tells him to shut up and their normal banter flows around her and envelopes her like a warm blanket she didn’t know she needed.

By the time they reach the ice rink, she thinks they just might be okay. They have each other’s marks, yeah, but she got them back together, and really that’s all they needed. She knows they’ll work it out. They fight together; they live together, so they’ll have to.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

By the time they make it back to Rowan’s house, Tim can hardly feel his fingers and his tailbone feels pretty sore, and he knows Rowan’s no better. In fact, out of the three of them, she’d fallen the most. He can already tell that her knees are probably purple, and when he pushes her up so that Damian can pull her through the window, he can feel her shivering.

Seeing the small girls so banged up gives him an uneasy feeling. It doesn’t help that they’d stayed later than he had originally planned, and so they’d had to cut through back alleys. Three kids running through alleys at 5:30 in the morning looks suspicious enough, but the one guy that had been unlucky enough to try and mug them probably didn’t exactly help that. They’d come upon the grimy looking man about five minutes into their mad dash back, and between him and Damian, it had taken about five seconds for them to decide that Damian would stay back, knock the unfortunate man out, and then catch up again while he and Rowan ran ahead. Not so surprisingly Rowan didn’t miss a beat and went right on ahead with him.

Tim was glad that the situation had worked out the way it had, but it still had him feeling guilty. She shouldn’t have even been out that late in the first place. Besides that, he’d broken into a building purely for enjoyment and had gotten his small friend bruised and freezing in the process. All in all he felt like he should apologize to her mother and grandmother. He would have too, if he didn’t think the women would stab him to death.

Still feeling uncomfortable, he tried his best to climb into Rowan’s room without making a sound. Her mom would be home any minute.

“Oh shit,” a small voice whispered horridly into the dark.

Tim had half a mind to scold Rowan for her language, even though he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Instead there was about five seconds of dead silence as Tim turned to look at Rowan standing beside Damian, and then realized that the two were staring at the bright sliver of light beneath Rowan’s bedroom door. As if that wasn’t alarming enough, he knew they all could hear the telltale sign of sharp heels clicking on hard wood.

And then a very terrifying, very silent hell broke loose as Damian slid under Rowan’s bed. Rowan looked him dead in the eye, pointed at the closet, and then tore off her hoodie and began unbuttoning her pants, most likely figuring that by the time she had them off so that she could put on her pajama pants, he would already be in his own hiding place.

He didn’t disappoint.

Rowan’s Mom may have only been five foot five, and 130 pounds soaking wet, but in her preferred six inch heels she was nearly as tall as he was, and damn near as mean as Damian when she wanted to be. He had no doubt that if she found them both in her daughter’s room this early in the morning; she’d shove those heels right through their face. Mostly his.

He shivered at the thought and did his best not to completely squash the tiny shoes beneath his feet. Their best bet would have been to hop back out the window, since both of them probably could have landed on their feet in the alley behind the shop. However he second guessed that idea as soon as he heard the door open.

“Hey baby girl,” a husky voice said, “you still up?”

Rowan would have freaked out and tried to come after them if they’d just vaulted out of the building, no matter how much she said she trusted their abilities. The moment the woman saw her daughter freaking out and halfway out her window, Rowan’s Mom would have known exactly who her daughter was yelling at.

“Yeah,” Rowan eventually replied, albeit very quietly.

Tim was just waiting for Ms. Miranda to ask why Rowan was all bruised up and why her window was open; just waiting for her to open the closet and claw his eyes out.

“Couldn’t sleep baby?”

Tim had no way to be sure, but he just knew Rowan was shrugging. She wouldn’t outright lie to her Mom, but she wouldn’t tell the whole truth either. At the moment, he was thanking God for that. He was also a little bit appreciative of Rowan’s insomnia. Sure it wasn’t good that the 12 year old had a sleeping disorder, but he would be a liar if he said he didn’t appreciate the fact that he could count on her to be up when she felt like talking. Selfish, sure, but he comforted himself with the fact that if she didn’t want to talk to him, she’d take her sleeping pills and ignore him for the rest of the night.

“Look, I know it’s the weekend, and I know you took a nap for a little bit when you got home from school, but you do need to get some sleep. I’ll tell Gran that you’ll come down to the shop when you wake up,” Miranda said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Rowan usually had a number of books hoarded in her bed, and considering the small laugh he’d heard, he assumed her Mom had seen them. There was no harm in the woman thinking her daughter had been up reading all night.

“Night, Mama,” he heard Rowan say.

“It’s more like morning, but okay. I’m going to get a couple hours for myself too. You know Gran will be up in a few hours if you need anything.”

And with that, Rowan’s Mom was gone, and he could breathe a little easier.

He still waited another hour before he even dared to step out of the closet.

When he did, he carefully sat down next Rowan with his back to the wall, just as Damian was doing on her opposite side. The girl in question was between them, head slumped forward as she dozed.

“You know,” Damian started softly,” I used to think the time I passed Rowan’s Mother on the sidewalk while she was on her way in and I was on my way out was the closest I’d ever come to getting my eyes scratched out by sharply manicured nails.”

Tim couldn’t help himself.

“And then you met Lian, right?”

Damian rolled his eyes so hard Tim thought that they were going to fall out of his head.

Still feeling bothered, Tim eventually sighed and got up.

“Come on, we need to get home. I know you’ve been patrolling by yourself all week, but that was unofficial. It’s my turn tonight and I have no doubt that Bruce, and probably Alfred too, are going to get on you about your absence.”

Damian didn’t reply, but he got up none the less. Damian pulled Rowan’s blanket form under her, and Tim shifted her so that she was in a more comfortable position. She glared at him for his efforts, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘TheFuckAreYouDoing’ slurred heavily together.

It’s in that moment that Damian chose to say something that had been dwelling in the back of his mind for the last thirty minutes or so.

“We could have been gone before her Mother stepped foot in the room if we’d tried hard enough.”

He shook his head and he couldn’t help the shaking in his shoulders as he tried to hold back his laughter. Once he and Damian hit the street, however, he let it all go. He probably looked insane like that, walking down the street that early in the morning, laughing so hard that he had to hold his stomach. When Damian joined him though? Well he had to laugh even harder.

“You’re right,” he gasped out between laughs.

“Oh I know,” Damian replied, genuine smile on his face,” but that wouldn’t have been half as fun, now would it?”

Tim couldn’t help but agree.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.  
  
Later, when they're both walking through the doors of Wayne Manor, Damian can still feel the current of unsettled business between.   
  
It only takes a split second to decide that the best way to settle _whatever_ it is that's going to happen between them is with a kiss.  
  
"Tim," he says simply as they walk towards their rooms.   
  
The blue eyed boy turns in surprise at the sound of his _first_ name coming from him, and Damian likes to think that the look is nothing compared to the one he has after he fists Tim's shirt in his hand and pulls him down just far enough to lock their lips in a searing kiss.   
  
It only takes a second for him to respond, and all Damian can taste is the distinct flavor of cinnamon from Rowan's cookies.   
  
He thinks that's probably what the girl herself tastes like, as it's her favorite spice.   
  
He finds that he doesn't mind.   
  
When Tim lets himself go enough to bring his hand up to Damian's neck, he knows that they're going to be doing this again.   
  
"I have a date with Conner next week!" Tim whispers urgently once they break away from each other, both panting.   
  
Damian's not actually mad when he turns around and walks the opposite way. He's got a hard on and the pain of it is fucking exquisite.   
  
"Don't worry about it Drake, I've got a date with Lian tomorrow," he shouts back.   
  
He doesn't give a damn who hears. No one will be home anyway; his Father had gone on patrol with Barbara and Dick.   
  
Even if they had, Damian wouldn't have stayed for their reaction. He doesn't even look back at the boy he'd just kissed senseless. 


	14. Chapter 14

Rowan generally didn't mind being a girl. She could still do all the same things the opposite sex could, so as far as she was concerned biological gender wasn't really an issue.

 

Except for about four or five days a month. On those days she couldn't wear light cored pants, and felt as if someone was stabbing her in the lower stomach with a dull knife repeatedly. On those days she hated being female.

 

And if anyone knew her opinion on that fact better than she did, it was Tim and Damian. Those boys had seen her at both her best and worst, often times being the ones to get her there. Because of this, it only made sense that the first time they encountered her during her period, they took her refusal to leave the house and floor hugging tendencies in a stride.

 

Somehow, in the months following, they'd worked out a routine for when Mother Nature came to visit her and she wasn't feeling up to much of anything.  In all honesty, she'd thought they would be squicked out by it, but they never even mentioned it.

 

Even though she knew that they knew that she was bleeding from her crotch and that's why all she wanted to do was eat junk food and kick their butts at video games. 

 

But yeah that would have been an awkward conversation. That's why instead of talking about it, they simply came to her house and messed around on her 'off' days.

 

It just so happened that one of her 'off' days was today, however. That one little fact sucked, as at the moment she was lying in her bed curled around her phone ready to hiss at any sunlight that dared to enter her room. Usually she took a pill to prevent cramps before she saw her friends, but she hadn't felt the beginnings of any yet so she figured she was fine.

 

She was texting Tim, who had asked if she wanted to go to the movies, and Damian, who was _telling_ her that they were going to the movies.  In all honesty she both did and didn't. Yes, she wanted to watch things with her friends, no she didn't want to get out of bed. So she told them so. She was happy with their replies.

 

'So we'll watch something at your house.' came from Damian.

 

She got 'I'll come over with snacks' from Tim.

 

The hour they took to arrive was more than enough, as all she'd needed to do was put on pants and pick up all of her books so they'd have room to spread out on her floor. 

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Damian, as was his preferred position, was the first to arrive. He'd found that if she was in the right mood, sometimes Rowan would bake while she had friends over.

 

She'd banned them from helping her after a fourth incident in the kitchen that involved food coloring, but the small kitchen was open to the living room so it was easy for them to all enjoy a movie while she baked.

 

Well, it was either that or she watched them play video games until she was done with her task and could join in. Either way, if she felt like making something, she often asked whoever showed up first what they'd like.

 

It was for that reason that he'd found himself with an abundance of cinnamon rolls or Rowan's special chocolate chip cookies more often than not. When Tim managed to beat him to the girl's house, they usually had some chocolate based treat for the day.

 

Not that he was truly complaining, of course. He'd found that he had a taste for cinnamon, and since Rowan herself seemed to put it in whatever she could, he was good to go. He still preferred to have the choice, though. 

 

Unfortunately, minutes after he arrived he found that Rowan was more in the mood to lie on the floor than bake him anything.

 

She was sprawled on her stomach, not even bothering to get anywhere near her bed. One of her arms was thrown straight forward, while the other was sandwiched between her lower stomach and the floor. She had her comforter balled up under her face, and he momentarily wondered if she was even able to breathe.

 

Seeing that she still hadn't noticed his presence, Damian smirked and squatted down beside her. He pulled off the sunglasses he'd been wearing and used them to poke Rowan directly on the back of her neck.

 

She immediately squeaked and her entire body jerked. Before he even stopped to think about it, he had his hand on her back to keep her down and a laugh slipped out of his mouth.

 

"Someone's jumpy."

 

At the moment the pressure he was using wasn't enough to hurt her, but it still kept her from sitting all the way up. She _was_ still able to lift her head and glare at him, though. She wasn't wearing her glasses, and he could see the wet sheen to her gaze.

 

Immediately he pulled his hand up and straightened, sitting back on his heels.

 

"Are you okay?" he intoned, studying her closer now.

 

He didn't think that he'd done anything to upset her, and she didn't _look_ hurt.

 

"I'm uh, cramping really badly..." she said quietly, red beginning to tint her cheeks.

 

Damian felt his eyebrows raise, and he didn't try to stop them. At this point he could recognize when it was 'her time of the month', and he knew to adjust his behavior accordingly. Today, for example, he knew that she was on her cycle and he'd accepted the fact that she didn't really want to leave her house because of her symptoms.

 

He'd never noticed her to be prone to mood swings, yet he knew she suffered from cramps, increased junk food cravings, and general tenderness. He also knew that while those things irritated her, she'd never been reduced to _tears_ by them before.

 

Out of all the situations he'd found himself in, _this_ was the one that left him at a loss. He could figure out what to do when confronted by a literal horde of zombies, but a hurting girl mid menstrual cycle? None of his training had prepared him for that.

 

And it irritated him.

 

"Do you need anything?" he eventually asked after a few moments of awkward silence.

 

For a second her blush flared brighter, but then she apparently decided that whatever pain she was going through was worth the embarrassment.

 

"Can just... I don't know help me up?"

 

She reached out one of her hands towards him, and he stared at it blankly. He'd actually expected her to give him a task, not... Whatever she was doing.

 

He still _did_ end up grasping the offered appendage and hoisting her up, though. Once she was on her feet, she once again placed her hand on her stomach and winced, shuffling from foot to foot.

 

Damian crossed his arms as he watched her, not quite sure what he was supposed to be doing. Which as it turned out, was just one more thing that irritated him.

 

"Just head to the living room I guess," she murmured softly, squinting at him slightly," I think I'm just gonna take a pill and be done with it."

 

"Tt, why didn't you just take a pill earlier?"

 

She pulled her black framed glasses out of her hoodie pocket and slipped them on, letting some of the escaped wisps of hair from her ponytail fall into her face. She didn't answer him, and he saw the rosy hue to her cheeks as they walked down the hall and she stopped to go into her bathroom.

 

He narrowed his eyes, and huffed at her.

 

"....You were just too lazy to get off of the floor earlier weren't you?"

 

"Maybe," she said, giving him a sheepish shrug as she riffled through her medicine cabinet.

 

"You're a lazy cow and I'm surprised your Mother didn't make you get up earlier," he deadpanned.

 

She ignored his insult, and he was only mildly offended that it had been wasted. Really, though, at this point he should have been used to it.

 

"My Mama's not home; I think she left when I was taking a nap earlier. Don't judge."

 

"Then your Grandmother should have done it."

 

She sighed, and blew a raspberry at him.

 

"Gran was downstairs making tomorrow's batch of ice cream. She came up like an hour ago and went straight to the shower."

 

Damian pushed from his position leaning on the doorway once he saw Rowan shake out a tiny pill from a bottle and wash it down with a hand full of tap water.

 

"That's disgusting," he told her.

 

There was no reason for her to do _that_ when he knew she had perfectly good bottled water in her kitchen.

 

"Meh," she replied, shrugging him off.

 

She was still rubbing at her stomach when they made it into the living room. The pill, he knew, would take a few minutes to kick in. He checked his watch to try and make an estimate, and instead found himself wondering how much time he would have before Tim showed up.

 

There where some things he wanted to discuss with Rowan, preferably alone. Tim did already know most of what he wanted to tell the girl, but he still felt that the older boy didn't need to be there.

 

For a while his Father and Dick had been trying to get him to be more social, and in some ways they'd succeeded. He worked well with most members of the family, and he could even work with some of the younger heroes that visited Gotham with their parents every now and again. Not to mention his more covert missions with Colin.

 

Despite this, Dick felt that he needed more social interaction. His Father had agreed, and even Jason had grudgingly admitted that 'kids' needed social structure to survive. Damian had, of course, argued that his social structure was just fine. Bruce had all but ignored him, however, and had enrolled him in _Gotham Academy_ of all places.

 

He knew even Rowan's Mother and Grandmother had been trying to get her into the prestigious school for months, yet he couldn't quite muster the respect everyone seemed to have for it. He'd managed a week and a half before he'd realized two things: the first was that he already knew everything that was being taught, the second was that _everyone he met was annoying._

 

He'd simply stopped going after that. Through careful maneuvering, he'd managed to keep Dick and Bruce under the impression that he was actually attending for a solid three months. He'd even taken a page out of Rowan's book and had simply done every possible assignment ahead of time. Jason, surprising as it was, happened to be the only one who realized that he wasn't actually going.

 

When he'd finally been found out and the whole thing had blown over, he'd thought that his guardians had finally given up on their misguided task.

 

Lately, however, his Father had brought up his 'social issue' again. The man had made the suggestion that he go with Tim to the Titans for an unspecified amount of time. Nothing was solid, and he still believed he had the chance to talk his Father out of it.

He still felt that he should warn Rowan, though. While she had other friends to occupy her time, he did realize that he took up a relatively large part of it. For such an introverted girl, any time at all was a relatively large amount. When Tim was gone, he _did_ notice that she seemed to miss him. He wondered if she'd feel the same for him.

 

He also wondered if she'd be able to stay out of trouble.

 

In Gotham, there was no guarantee. When the bigger villains came out to play, they almost always pulled civilians into their twisted schemes. Gotham seemed to have two types of people: those who found themselves caught in the riptide, and those who have lived with it long enough to know how to stay afloat. The ones who couldn't stay above it where usually the ones who got caught and ended up dead.

 

Rowan's family, fortunately, where part of those who'd learned how to survive in the volatile city they called home. Rose had a reinforced attic, reinforced basement, a phone in every room, bullet proof glass in every window, and double locks on every possible entrance. To anyone who didn't live in the city, it looked extreme. To anyone who did, it almost wasn't enough.

 

Rowan herself had been taught how to avoid the more dangerous situations on her walks to and from school, and how to run like hell _in the right direction_ if she found herself in a bad place. By some sheer form of luck, Rowan had stayed out of harm’s way in the god forsaken town. Logically, he knew that if she and her family kept living the way they did, she'd stay safe.

 

Yet lately, something deep within him had been grating at his senses. Some instinctual form of intuition was telling him that something big was coming. Something dangerous was heading for _him._

 

As he sat with his small friend, however, the biggest thing on his mind was the hope that her luck would continue to hold.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

They were half way through 'The City Of Lost Children' when she heard the tell-tale click of the lock on her front door.

 

Damian was standing up to leave, since it was his turn on patrol that night, but Tim was staying.

 

Since Gran was watching the slightly odd movie with them, Rowan knew it could only be one person: her Mama. Grinning, she pushed herself up and turned around so that she could peer over the back of the couch.

 

"Hey Ma- oh."

 

Immediately she felt the smile slip off of her face, and she didn't even register the fact that her grip had tightened on the licorice in her hand.

 

It wasn't Tuesday. Tuesday was the day she could handle this. Tuesday was date day. But it wasn't Tuesday.

 

She immediately brought her hand up to her mouth to gnaw on one of her bracelets as she watched her Mama stumble through the door, giggling.

 

"Oooooh, Ro, baby guess what?" Miranda asked once she caught sight of her daughter.

 

Rowan could feel the heat of her friends beside her, and she chose not to answer her. Instead, she turned back around and slipped back into her spot between them.

 

Both boys were now staring at her Mama, and she wanted to pinch them both and tell them not  to do that. It would draw attention to them, and make her Mama come over.

 

But she didn't, she couldn't. She was afraid of what would come out of her mouth. Instead, she kept her eyes glued to the screen, not comprehending a thing that was happening as she pulled harshly on the now too damp string of her bracelet with her teeth.

 

 _'Ignore it,'_ Rowan thought to herself.

 

"Is your Mother Drunk?" Damian asked from beside her, blunt as ever.

 

_'Ignore it,'_

She heard her Gran snap her book shut loudly, huffing.

 

_'Ignore it,'_

 

"Rowan?" Tim asked, bumping into her shoulder slightly.

 

She glanced quickly at him, and shrugged.

_'Ignore it,'_

 

She could hear the clicking of high heels getting closer.

 

_'Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore-'_

 

"Rooooo, babyyyy! Guess what, guess what, guess what!"

 

Sweaty manicured hands found their way onto Rowan's shoulders, and she tried to shrug them off. That, of course, only made her Mama slide them down and forward so that she could lean over and wrap her arms around Rowan's neck from behind.

 

She knew it was supposed to be a hug, but it felt more like a noose.

 

She turned her face toward her Mama's; her makeup was smeared, though none the less striking.

 

"What?" she whispered.

 

At the moment, she was hoping that if she played along her Mama would just get in bed sooner.

 

"Mmm," her Mama hummed, nuzzling awkwardly into Rowan's cheek.

 

She smelled like brandy.

 

"Ms. Chase?" Tim questioned.

 

Her Mama's preferred drink was vodka.

 

"Ooh," her Mama giggled," Ro, your friends are so pretty."

 

She only drank brandy on Tuesdays.

 

Rowan closed her eyes.

 

"Mama?" She questioned softly, placing her own hand over the intoxicated woman's.

 

"You're pretty toooo," she said, nearly singing towards the end of her sentence.

 

Rowan was always careful not to invite the boys over on Tuesdays. She was always so, so careful not to invite _anyone._

 

"God, why are you so pretty? No. No, no, no, no! You're cute! You're such a cuties! Chubby cheeks and curly hair, ooooh! Me and your Daddy made such a cutie!"

 

"Miranda Anne Chase! You better get your intoxicated behind away from these children right now!"

 

Rowan opened her eyes to see the harsh scowl on her Gran's pale face, and the pout on her Mama's. Gran was fed up, and when Gran was fed up she got serious. Even drunk off her ass, Rowan's Mama knew to listen to her own Mama.

 

"Aww, night baby giiirl," her Mama breathed, leaning in to give her a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

 

The lipstick left behind felt sticky and gross on Rowan's cheek. The worst part though? Rowan got a big whiff of brandy as her Mama leaned up shakily.

 

She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes again.

 

Her Mama didn't even like brandy. She didn't like brandy, but every Tuesday she came home smelling like a fresh bottle because while she preferred vodka, Mitchel loved brandy.

 

Every Tuesday she left to go have her 'Spa Day', when in reality she was going to see Rowan's Father.  Except Rowan wasn't supposed to know that.

 

She wasn't supposed to know that her Mama left every Tuesday with her face done up like a goddess wearing 'fuck me pumps'. She wasn't supposed to know that she met a married man for dinner. She wasn't supposed to know that she came home every Tuesday at a different hour smelling like her lover's drink of choice because alcohol was the only way she could live with being her Soul Mate's mistress.

 

Rowan wasn't supposed to know that, and so every Tuesday, she made sure not to invite her friends over so that they wouldn't ask questions she wasn't supposed to know the answers to.

 

Except her Mama had broken her cycle, and now it was Wednesday and Damian was staring with disgust at her Mama's retreating back.

 

But it wasn't him she we worried about. Damian would let it go. He would be angry at her for not telling him, but he would see how little she wanted to talk about it, and let it go.

 

But Tim? Well, he was staring at her like he didn't know her. And perhaps he didn't, but she had a feeling that by the time the night was through, he would. He'd find a way to get her to talk. He wouldn't give up; he'd get under her skin if that's what it took. She wouldn't make him push that hard, but if he needed to he would. He'd know more about her than she knew about herself.

 

Always the detective; his blue eyes saw way too much.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

She'd let her hair down, and he couldn't see past the curls that hid her face. All he knew was that at his point, she'd probably chewed through at least three of her bracelets.

 

Her shoulders weren't shaking, and no sound came from her, yet he wondered if there were tears in her eyes. He didn't think so, but he'd never actually seen her cry before.

 

He'd witnessed the small girl get into some situations that would've had anyone her age bawling. He'd seen Damian drop her shoulder onto hard pavement. He'd seen her burn her hand on a pan fresh out of a 425 degree oven. He'd even seen her trip halfway down a flight of stairs in an aggressive game of tag. Yet through it all, she'd never let them see her cry.

 

Through it all, she'd worn a lop sided smile that said 'yeah, I'm in a fair amount of pain,',and at first he thought she was pretty brave for it. Now?

 

He wondered if she didn't save her tears for other things.

 

Tim had always known that she was particularly sensitive to those around her. If it wasn't the timid way she presented herself that told him, then it was her penchant for watching people.

 

Most of the time she could be rather flighty; there was no masking her lack of interest in the shifting world around her. When she found something that caught her attention, however, well, then she grabbed on to it for all it was worth. The multitude of books, video games, movies, sharpies, and sweets was a testimony to that. When she was focused on something, whatever it was took its own special place in her exclusive world.

 

As someone so young, small, and quiet, Rowan melted mostly into the background. He'd noticed it on their few trips out. Most people over looked her, and maybe they were right to. Yet she didn't do that in response.

 

Instead, he'd often caught her studying the masses on trips to the park or movie theaters. Once, he'd seen her staring at a smartly dressed business man sitting on a bench in front of a play ground in Gotham park.

 

That day, she'd wanted to teach Damian how to play baseball. They'd spent nearly an hour playing catch and taking turns with a bat before Rowan decided she needed a breather. They'd settled at a table just beyond the playground to enjoy some of the snacks they'd brought. Damian had taken one bench, Tim took the other, and Rowan had seated herself on the table, with her feet resting on the bench facing the play ground.

 

He'd watched her eat three pieces of bread and multiple strawberries before finally asking her why she was staring at the man.

 

She'd turned towards him with the slightly hooded eyes he'd come to recognize as her neutrally relaxed expression, and simply blinked, head tilted towards the side in question.

 

"You've been staring at him for nearly 15 minutes Ro," he'd laughed.

 

After she spoke though, well, he hadn't been much in the laughing mood then.

 

"He watches them like he loves them," she'd murmured around a half eaten strawberry.

 

"Well, some father's do actually love their children," Damian had piped in from his place lying on the opposite bench seat.

 

Rowan had hummed her approval before picking up another strawberry and returning her gaze to the man. After she finished the red fruit, she'd wiped her hands on her worn jeans and hopped off the table.

 

He'd watched her clean up her mess, and had nearly forgotten about the entire situation when she spoke again.

 

"That's just it," she said in her usual soft way," I don't think any of those kids are his."

 

At that point, both he and Damian had stopped with whatever they'd been doing. Damian, for all of his harsh nature, had a soft spot when it came to children.

 

"What makes you say that?" he'd asked her.

 

She'd taken one look at Damian, stiff with his arms crossed, and had straightened up herself. With one hand full of unused napkins, and the other wrapped protectively around her body, she'd tried to explain something Tim had never bothered to imagine her being able to comprehend.

 

"Well, he's uh, he's been here since we got here, you know? But none of the kids have gone up to him," she started fidgeting, and Tim didn't quite know what to think.

 

"He doesn't look tired like someone with a little kid would, you know? And he never checks the time like business-y guys always do. If you gotta be that dressed up for your job, and you don't have time to get out of your clothes to take your kid to the park, don't you think it's a bit weird that he, uh, doesn't have to worry about how long he stays?"

 

He'd stood there, surprised and quite frankly a little unsettled. He'd become even more unsettled when he'd looked into the man's life later on.

 

That night, however, Robin and Red Robin took some time off from their usual duties to find a pedophile. And if Robin had blood on his gloves and the smartly dressed man was just a little worse for wear when they dropped him off at the police station? Well that was just a mystery.

 

He'd always thought Rowan too sweet for things like that. He'd thought her too naive, fragile, and timid. Now, though?

 

Well he wasn't quite so sure anymore.

 

He had known there were some things that she didn't quite tell him about her family; things that she didn't tell Damian. He'd known, and yet he'd never really stopped to look at what that meant.

 

At the moment, as he watched Rowan obsessively twist her hand into the bottom of her hoodie, he wondered if he should have.

 

"Rowan?" Damian asked from his spot standing above them.

 

The younger boy should have been gone already, yet Tim didn't see any fear of the time. Instead, he saw a hand twitching as if wanting to reach out in comfort, and a mind struggling to find proper words.

 

Tim found his first.

 

"You should go Damian, I'll stay and help her clean up."

 

He wouldn't offer to finish the movie, since their mood had been effectively ruined. He wouldn't just leave her there either. He'd help her clean up, and finally find out what was going on while he was at it.

 

"Tim's right," Rowan said, surprising him.

 

He hadn't expected her to speak, let alone back him up. Yet with her approval, Damian gave her one last guarded look, and then was gone.

 

"I'll bring over some Wing Stop and Call of Duty tomorrow," where his parting words.

 

Between him and Rowan, they might as well have been words of apology and reassurance.

 

Instead of dwelling on that little fact, Tim focused all of his attention back on Rowan. The girl was looking at him, knees pulled to her chest cheek resting softly on them. Her eyes were wide open, and her glasses were tilted askew and digging into the pliant flesh on her face.

 

"Hey Rowan-" he started, but she cut him off.

 

"You put the games and stuff away, I'll take the dishes to the kitchen."

 

Before he could stop her, she was pushing herself up and heading towards the kitchen with an armful of plates.

 

Seeing the diversion tactic for what it was, Tim set to his task with a slight head shake. He finished quickly, and efficiently.

 

Normally he made sure to make some sort of noise since Rowan startled so easily, but at the moment he wasn't looking to ease her fears.

 

He was learning that when she was calm and comfortable, when he coddled her too much, she got things past him with a slyness he'd never known she possessed. He valued his friends, and because of that, he was willing to do whatever it took to help them out.

 

Even if it meant pushing a soft spoken girl to say the things he'd noticed in private out loud, and maybe even explain them to him. Conner, out of all people, was the one who'd taught him that it was better to talk about your problems than hold them in.

 

"Ro," he called softly as he settled a hand on her should.

 

He felt her jump, automatically shifting forward to get away from his touch. When she realized what he was doing, she tensed and then dropped the fork she'd been rinsing into the dish drainer.

 

"Hm?" she hummed in question, not quite looking him in the eye.

 

He backed up a little to give her breathing room. He watched her like that, studying her as she went through the motions of cleaning dishes.

 

"What's going on, Ro?" he eventually asked, deciding that the direct approach was the best way to go.

 

Instead of tensing again, she seemed to visibly shrink within herself, and he realized that she'd been expecting his question. This was her defense.

 

She shifted from foot to foot, nearly sighing out her words.

 

"Nothing."

 

He raised a brow, setting his stance to mimic her defensive visage. She responded based on the actions of those around her; if he came off as hard her own facade would soften. She got nervous when people came at her too harshly, and he'd use that to his advantage.

 

"If nothing's wrong, then why did you freak out when your mom came home?"

 

He watched her jaw clench and he could practically feel her heart beating faster as she scrambled for words.

 

"I just- I uh, I don't like you seeing her... Like _that._ "

 

"Like what? Drunk?"

 

She shifted on her feet, small fingers twisting themselves into the woven bracelets she wore up to her elbow.

 

"Yeah?"

 

In that moment, Tim saw his chance and took it.

 

"Was that a statement or a question, Ro?"

 

Her brown eyes narrowed, but he was satisfied with the way she continued her fidgeting. She was getting nervous; cornered.

 

"Does it matter?"

 

For a moment, he wondered if he really was just being an ass.

 

Then he saw Rowan flinch as a crash rang out from the direction of the bedrooms, and he decided that he didn't care.

 

"At the moment? Yes, but if you prefer we could talk about why you hate your Mom going on dates so much. Is the drinking why? Does she _usually_ get flat out drunk?"

 

He'd thrown it all out there; everything he'd never thought to ask about.

 

Over the past few years, he'd noticed just how wound up his small friend got when her Mom dressed up and went out on dates. He'd also noticed how Ms.Chase always seemed to come home sans some of her pristine makeup with a few extra dark purple spots on her neck.

 

He'd never judged of course. The woman was single, in her prime, and gorgeous; even he could see that. Who she slept with was her business.

 

But if whatever she had going on in her free time was affecting Rowan, he wanted to know.

 

He heard the harsh breath Rowan had forced out, and it brought his attention back to the task at hand.

 

She had some of her hair fisted in her hand, and she was clenching it so tight he worried that she'd pull it out.

 

"I-" she started, eyes searching the ground in front of her frantically,"I just, I don't know."

 

He watched her scramble for words, and felt himself sighing. He moved beside her and grabbed her hand gently to pull it out of her hair. She looked at him with wide eyes, but let him pull her down when he slid to the floor.

 

He let go of her hand and stretched his legs out in front of him, bumping Rowan's shoulder with his own as she settled.

 

"Rowan, what's going on?" he asked once he was sure she'd calmed.

 

He was staring straight ahead, but he could still feel when she pushed herself farther into his side and leaned her head onto his arm.

 

"She's not a bad person," she whispered.

 

He fought not to look at her, because he knew he did she might not continue.

 

"I never said she was."

 

"I know Tim, I just-"

 

She stopped to take a breath.

 

"I just want you to know that- that it's just the way things turned out for her."

 

"What turned out for her?" he asked, prompting her as gently as he could.

 

She needed to encouragement.

 

"My Mama, her mark, her Soul Mark I mean, they're my Father's. And uh, I'm almost sure he has her's. They're a matching pair, ya know?"

 

At first he wasn't sure what her Mom's marks had to do with anything, but he was beginning to see where she was going.

 

"Generally they _do_ come in pairs, Ro."

 

 _'Or more,'_ he thought to himself.

 

She let out a sound that could have passed for a laugh, had she not choked on it. Startled, he looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

 

All he could really see was the frizzy mess of the ponytail that she'd created from pulling so harshly at her strands. Besides that, he couldn't see past the hand that she had covering her face.

 

"Not everybody gets a happy ending, Tim."

 

She didn't exactly sound cynical, yet there was something bitter there's.

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

She pulled herself far enough way that she could tuck her knees to her chest, but she still kept her arm aligned with his side.

 

"My Father's wife, Margo? Her Soul Mate has someone else's mark. That's part of the reason why she even married him."

 

Tim didn't know what he wanted to question first; the fact that her Dad was married, or the fact that he'd married someone other than his Soul Mate. In the end, he somehow ended up asking the dumber of the two questions.

 

"You're Dad's married?"

 

"Yeah, you didn't know? I mean you've seen my sisters before; he had them like a year after he got married. And he always wears his ring.." she said, smiling softly.

 

He _had_ met her sisters once. The girls were blonde, blue eyed  twins, yet they couldn't be more different. One looked like the prep school poster child, while the other one wore neon tube tops and had mint green hair. He'd only stayed for about fifteen minutes before he felt like he was intruding, and he'd left. Rowan seemed to adore them though, so he supposed they were okay in the long run.

 

The one time he'd met her Dad had been what he had come to recall as the Christmas disaster. He hadn't bothered to take in any more than he normally would have, but now that he thought about the man _had_ been wearing a gold wedding band.

 

"Yeah, I remember," he said offhandedly.

 

And then suddenly, as he thought about it, everything clicked. Rowan's sisters where three years older than her, and if they were born a year after he'd married...

 

"You think they're having an affair?" 

 

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, and he hopped that she had he sense not to bite through it.

 

"I know they are," she whispered.

 

"Is that where she was-"

 

"Yeah," she interrupted," usually she goes on Tuesday, but... Yeah."

 

He didn't quite know what to say to that, but soon she was talking again and he didn't need to.

 

"Mama never told me, but I've seen her mark. It's on her thigh. It's... It looks like a mirror. Looked, I guess. The words, they're shattered."

She was staring at her lap now. Her fingers, as they always seemed to do, had found themselves caught in her bracelets. He wondered if beneath them all, her skin was rubbed raw yet.

 

"It didn't used to be like that, I've seen pictures."

 

"Of what, her mark?"

 

Rowan hummed her approval.

 

"It used to be whole, I guess you could say. Before she met him, I think you could have looked at her mark and seen yourself clear as any actual mirror," she paused there before continuing," It's cool how the marks can do that. I don't think the greatest artist in the world could make the marks that some people get look so _real._ "

 

Tim hadn't seen many in person, but he had to agree. What he wanted to know, however, was how such a beautiful sounding mark had changed so _violently._

"Ro, what happened?"

 

She shrugged, and then flicked a piece of hair out of her face, only for it to spring stubbornly back into place.

 

“My Father, for all of his faults, really does compliment Mama.  I think... I think he really is what she needed in a Soul Mate. Mama never told me, but I think the moment she actually really met him, she knew wasn't going to get that picture perfect love story like in the movies.. It was like everything she'd thought she'd have, her dreams just..."

 

Tim knew what she was trying to say, so he finished for her.

 

"They shattered."

 

Rowan nodded.

 

"The words reflect the person they belong to, and my Father... My Dad? He always does what other people want him to do. I don’t even think _he_ knows who he is anymore. Mama would probably never have told me, but Gran said that when I was born, Mitchel was going to leave his wife for Mama."

 

She stopped there, so he pushed a little harder.

 

"Why didn't he do it?"

 

She let out another half laugh again, and Tim was beginning to realize that it was her version being down right bitter. She wasn't the type to openly despise someone, and he realized that this was probably the closest she'd get.

 

"His Daddy didn't approve. He's an over privileged white boy who grew up in money. When he found out he wouldn't get anything when his Dad died if he married my Mama, he couldn't do it. He becomes what he needs to in order to get what he wants, no matter what it costs him. He has no morals, no conscience. He's weak."

 

At this point, he could tell Rowan was starting to get heated, and he tried to lighten the mood.

"So he's spoiled like Damian?"

 

She turned and slapped his arm so hard he was sure her palm would be stinging for a while afterwards. There was fire in her eyes and he knew he'd miss stepped.

 

"I didn't mean it, Ro."

 

With his apology, she deflated fairly quickly and scrubbed at her face.

 

"Damian may be spoiled, but he's not a bad person. He hasn't let everything he's got go to his head yet; he hasn't let it ruin him."

 

"But your Dad did?"

 

She leaned her head back on his shoulder and sighed.

 

"Yeah, he did. I guess in the end, he caught my Mama along the way."

 

"This doesn't make her a bad person," he told her as he carefully worked the hair band from her ponytail. He knew that by now her scalp had to be aching.

 

"I know Tim..."

 

She yawned, and he figured that the night had worn her out. He had the passing thought that she might actually be able to sleep through the night without her medicine.

 

"I told you earlier, not everyone gets a happy ending."

 

He knew she was more than right, and as they sat there in the silence of her kitchen, he wondered about his own.

 

Between him, his third, and Damian, he wondered how their ending would play out.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

The following week, she found herself standing in front of her Mama's door at 2 am.

 

It was Tuesday.

 

She didn't know why she did it. Why she stood in the hall at 2 am, staring at her Mama's door.

 

She didn't know why she raised her fist to pound on wood that resounded with an echo as empty as she felt.

 

She didn't know why she knocked, when she knew her Mama wouldn't answer. She wouldn't, because she couldn't.

 

It's impossible to answer the door when you're not there.

 

"Rowan?" her Gran's voice eventually rung down the hall.

 

"I don't feel so good," she replied, not knowing what else to tell the woman.

 

What could she say? That she wanted to see once and for all of her Mama really was having an affair with a married man? That she wanted to prove something to herself that she already knew?

 

No, she couldn't look her Gran in the eye and tell her that. The woman already had enough on her plate knowing all on her own.

 

Some secrets, Rowan knew, where better kept when you thought you were the only one keeping them. It was easier to bear the pain of you knew it wasn't being spread to someone else.

 

So instead of giving her Gran one more thing to bear, Rowan told her the closest thing to the truth as she could.

 

"What's wrong, love?" her Gran asked, shuffling down the hall to wrap her arms around her granddaughter.

 

"My stomach hurts," Rowan whispered, taking in the calming scent of lilacs that her Gran seemed to wear like a second skin.

 

"You eat too much junk food?" her Gran asked, laughing softly.

 

Rowan shook her head no.

 

“I think I just need to go to bed,” she whispered into the woman’s warm shoulder.

 

She felt her Gran nod, and then run her fingers through her hair before letting go.

 

“Get some sleep okay?”

 

Rowan nodded, and then walked quietly into her room. She closed her eyes and leaned her back against her door as she listened to silence around her. She heard the click of her Gran’s door, and she let out a sigh.

 

Her Gran would never admit it, but on Tuesdays she knew exactly where her daughter was just as well as Rowan did. She was the one who made sure she got in bed safely after all. Rose Chase wouldn’t sleep until Miranda was sound asleep in her bed, no matter what time she got home.

 

Rowan felt a soft breeze on her face, and she slid carefully down to her floor, door still sturdy behind her. She could hear crickets, yet she still didn’t open her eyes.

 

She couldn’t stop the small, grateful smile that graced her face.

 

“Damian,” she whispered, “what are you doing here?”

 

Tim had already gone back to Star City, so it could only be the current boy wonder. When he’d first started coming, she’d made it clear that Tuesday was her night. Or at least, that’s what she’d led him to believe.

 

She felt him settle beside her.

 

“Last Wednesday, when your Mother came home like that?”

 

She opened her eyes to look at him, and noticed that he still had his mask on.

 

“What about it?”

 

“That’s why you never wanted me to come on Tuesdays right? She usually does that on Tuesdays?”

 

Rowan absentmindedly began to tap lightly on her floor. She was almost sure that Tim hadn’t told Damian. She’d asked him not to.

 

“Maybe.”

 

Damian simply nodded, and pulled out an honest to god shuriken from one of his pouches.

 

“You want to learn how to clean and sharpen it?”

 

She tried to search his face for an answer as to why he was doing… Whatever he was doing, but she found none.

 

“Well?” he questioned.

 

“Are you going to be here ever Tuesday?” she found herself asking back.

 

He gave her a short nod, and began twisting the sharp weapon around in his fingers.

 

She reached out carefully and set one of her fingers lightly on the edge of it. She felt her finger begin to split at the feather light touch and immediately pulled back. The thing was beyond razor sharp.

 

Damian was trying to distract her; comfort her. She looked up at his face, and wished that he wasn’t wearing his stupid mask. She wanted to figure out exactly what he was thinking.

 

“Why not,” she told him.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I wrote this pretty fast, but I've had some of it done for a while... Anyway, this ones not as long as the last one, but it's not doing to bad either ;) 6, 000 words...
> 
> I hope you enjoy this, it's the most of Damian's POV that we've had in a while. Fair warning that Damian's 15 here, and Rowan's 13. Things might get awkward for a sec, but they are teenagers and things happen sometimes, let's be real people. Again, I'm making a big deal out of nothing. 
> 
> *the sound of me crying because I should be working on my other story*
> 
> But mostly just enjoy this.

Sometimes, when Damian comes over, it’s a surprise. Usually he calls first, but sometimes, almost always when something's happened, he just shows up. On those days, Rowan is never quite sure what to do. All she knows is that something's bothering him, and he comes to her to get lost. On those days, she doesn't change her plans to include him, and if she has none, she makes some. She does this because of the simple fact that on those days, she knows that all Damian wants to do is live someone else's life for a while.         

 

So when she finds herself half-dressed and staring at an unannounced green eyed boy 30 minutes before she has to leave for the day, well, she just goes with it.

 

Her Mama, in all her blessed obliviousness, took one look at Rowan standing there with one sock on, and Damian next to her looking like a teen model, and shrugged.

 

"You're going with Ro to the youth center?" she asked, all the while twisting her bountiful braids into an elegant bun.

 

Rowan didn't quite know what to say, so instead she let her friend straight up lie to her Mama with an eager tone that she knew was fake as hell because she'd heard the session's he'd tapped with Ms. Kelley. The boy could act and after he'd assured her Mama that he couldn't wait to go to the youth center with her, he kept the excitement on his face all the way up until they made it to her room.

 

"Tt, youth center?" he asked, as if the very words left a bad taste in his mouth.

 

She really couldn't help it if she rolled her eyes when she turned around to see the usual haughty look on his face.

 

Just for that, she made him wait in silence as she put on her other sock. They were black printed with neon geometric shapes, and they were her favorite. She gave Damian and Tim a pair just like them, although she knew Damian didn't wear his. Though she let that go since she often caught him wearing one of the various friendship bracelets she'd made him over the years.

 

"A lot of the kids there get in trouble a lot, so they have this new buddy system thing. Middle school kids pair up with elementary school kids, high school kids get middle school kids, and college kids get high school kids," she said to him once she was satisfied that her socks were on right.

 

He did the teeth clicking thing again and she ignored it in favor of pulling on her converse. They really were falling apart, and she thought that she probably should ask her Mama for new ones soon.

 

"If they're in college, they're not kids, Rowan."

 

"If I graduate early I'll still be a kid," she couldn’t help but point out.

 

She watched him open the small drawer she'd filled with various bracelets, and decided not to comment when he pulled a more elaborately patterned one out and slipped it on. She'd stolen enough of his jackets that she couldn't really complain without being a total hypocrite.

 

"You're still planning to test out of your classes?" he questioned.

 

She didn't quite know why, but she tensed up. She'd never be as smart as her two friends were, she knew that. But that didn't exactly mean that she was stupid either. She'd always been pretty good with her studies, numbers came naturally to her, and her chronic reading helped with English. Science was just a combination of math and English for her, and history she could do as long as she memorized certain facts and then cleansed them from her mind later. Because of this, she'd been playing around with the idea of just skipping a year or so.

 

That didn't mean she wanted to discuss it with a boy who was probably already more educated than a lot of college level professors.

 

So she changed to subject.

 

"Yeah, um, so at the youth center I'll probably just be helping Lucy with her homework."

 

"Lucy?" he asked as he picked up one of her various sharpies and moved over to her rainbow tree wall. She watched as he methodically began to draw a small leafs in the background, almost behind their various handprints. It actually looked pretty good, filling in the free space like that. He did it often, and almost every time she could tell how much better he'd gotten. She could tell that he'd been practicing.

 

He'd never admit it, but she knew the boy had a taste for the arts. Acting? Drawing? Yeah, she could just tell.

 

Suddenly she heard her Mama yelling her name from the other room and she jumped. Damian caught it and smirked at her.

 

"I'll tell you about her in the car," she told him after shoving him aside and grabbing her jacket.

 

He didn't move of course, but it still made her feel better.

 

"You know all the little girls at the center are gonna eat you alive, right Damian?" her Mama teased as they all walked through the kitchen to get to the main part of the bakery.

 

She could practically feel how bad Damian wanted to send a flirty comment back at her Mama, but she knew that he knew that if he even tried it she would break out the tiny spray bottle she kept in her messenger bag and start spritzing him like a cat.

 

At least she hoped he remembered the one and only time he'd tried it when he'd met her sister Elizabeth. Lizzy was tall and blonde and had made the mistake of calling Damian 'a little cutie'. Damian had looked her in the eye and had said that there was nothing 'little' about him and he'd be more than happy to show her. Lizzy had laughed while Rowan had stood there mortified. The flirty thing was one of the worse habits that, according to Tim, he'd picked up from Dick and Bruce. She knew that. She was fine with that. At least, when it was with his friends or people they didn't know.

 

She was _not_ fine with it when it was her friends or family. So, not knowing what else to do with the ever increasingly shameless boy, she started slapping his arm and she took up the bottle she'd plan to use to do her hair later and started spraying him with it. He'd _freaked._  

 

Out of that entire experience, they'd both agreed to one thing: he didn't hit on her family, even though they all knew he didn't mean it because everyone was a good deal older than him.

 

Still, she could feel the off colored comment he wanted to gear towards her Mama. She almost petted him and gave him a cookie for holding back. Almost being the key word because while he'd take the cookie, he'd probably kick her ass for treating him like a puppy. (Even though she really wanted to.)

 

Her Gran was in a kitchen, and Rowan knew the young lady her Gran had hired was working the register.

 

"Have a good time," she said, arms floured to the elbow from the dough she was mixing.

 

Damian nodded his head, while Rowan gave her a 'kay' in reply. Usually her Gran drove her on weekends since on those days Rowan went to the Youth Center during lunch hour when the bakery was closed, but her Mama had something to do today anyway, so she was taking her.

 

Once they got to the car, it was a given that both she and Damian hopped in the back. They were usually on their DS's or talking about something or the other, so it was just easier.

 

"So," Damian said after they were settled, “who’s Lucy?"

 

She'd been staring out the window for about 5 minutes, listening to her Mama talking on the phone, and she'd pretty much forgotten about Lucy.

 

"Oh, uh, she's the girl I'm partnered with. She's in second grade," she said, thinking of the skinny girl with blonde pig tails.

 

Lucy was rambunctious, to say the least. She had a thing for monster trucks, tutus, horror movies, and makeup. An odd combination for sure, but Rowan liked her well enough.

 

Damian turned to her with one eyebrow raised.

 

"And she needs you to spend the day helping her with her homework?"

 

"Not all day. We play games after."

 

Damian shook his head.

 

"Why are you even doing this?"

 

"Well, uh, I don't really feel like doing baseball anymore, and Gran thinks I should be doing something outside of school if I..." she replied, fidgeting awkwardly with her hands.

 

"If you what?" he asked.

 

At that she couldn't help but gnaw on her lip nervously. In all honesty, her Mama and Gran where trying to get her into Gotham Academy. It was a better school all around, but because of her location and her lack of money, she knew she'd have a hard time getting in. At the moment, her Mama and Gran where hoping that if she had at least one outside of school project, and once she started to actually showing her academic skills, that she could get a full academic scholarship.

 

She hadn't really told anyone that, and she didn't know how he'd react.

 

"I thought you liked playing?" He asked her.

 

"She likes hitting around a ball every now and again. Being on the team is too much activity for her,” her Mama piped up from the front.

 

Rowan went red, but she couldn’t exactly contradict her Mama. She liked the baseball; she just was getting _really_ tired of all the practice. She liked winning games, and her team was okay, but the sport as a whole was getting to her.

 

Honestly, it was the combination of the physical and social expectations that had her starting to really despise something she normally enjoyed. She’d thought her coach had understood her casual enjoyment, but apparently not. Everything had been fine for the most part, but then her coach had begun to really get on her about her performance. For all of her skill, she did get tired really easily. Her coach had wanted to drill her for hours in order to increase her stamina, but that just wasn’t something she was willing to do. Then there was the issue of her social interactions with her team.

 

After the whole picture fiasco, she’d never really been able to trust them. Since she’d never told her coach, the man just couldn’t understand it. Rowan never went to team events, she never hung out with any of them outside of practice save for the girls she’d joined with, and she rarely talked to anyone even when she was around them.

 

The last straw had been when her coach, probably meaning well, had wanted her to adjust her diet. That had been the feather that tipped the scale for her. She’d just been done.

 

In that moment she’d gone up to Tatiana, who was probably her closest friend besides the boys, and made it very clear that she was done at the end of the season. Tati, secretly good natured Chola that she was, thought that she was leaving because of someone on the team. She’d started to curse rapidly in Spanish, and after realizing that she needed to find friends who had less anger issues, Rowan had tried to calm her down. Tati had really only cooled off after Rowan’s seventh refusal of her offer beat in some dude’s poor face in.

 

Sighing, Rowan adjusted a few of the bracelets around her arm.

 

“I got tired of it,” she muttered lamely.

 

Damian, blessed boy that he was, let her leave it at that.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

When they got to the Youth Center, Damian wasn't exactly sure he was expecting, but it wasn't the extremely energetic little blonde girl, nor was it the over attentive staff.

 

Lucy herself wasn't _bad_ we say, she was just annoyingly chatty. She had a high pitched voice that got on his nerves, and she was just so _hyper._ She actually started to cart wheel through the hall way at one point, and Rowan had to literally sit on her back until she was calm enough to walk normally. He had no idea who the girl's parents where, but they had some serious issues of their child was _that_ uncouth.

 

Rowan had given him a grand tour of the place and he'd learned that the center consisted of five main areas: the open courtyard just beyond the gates, the inside basketball room, the computer room, the homework room, and the crafts room. No one really noticed them until they got into the computer room.

 

Once there, Damian had seen just how many of the admittedly crappy computes where broken. Sure, he knew it was a budget stretch for a place like that to even _have_ computers, but the least they could do was keep them running.

 

He'd been so irritated by the mediocrity that he'd actually ended up fixing one of the computers marked 'Broken' with a sticky note. At first the person that watched the room didn't notice, but then the man, who he'd later learned was named Edmond Jennings, saw him messing with a second one's internal mechanics and he'd gotten yelled at.

 

Rowan had all but left him there to be torn into until the man finally realized that Damian didn't give a damn what he thought, and that he'd actually already fixed the computer next to it, and that one was up and running perfectly.

 

After that the man had let him do whatever. He'd muttered something about 'genius kids' but Damian honestly didn't care enough to listen.

 

Rowan had let him finish all but one before dragging him away to the homework area, the adults around them watching in amusement. Damian had his phone with him, and he used to to check on some of the Wayne Enterprises stocks as Rowan helped Lucy with her homework and a history project.

 

He probably could have just left, since he really wasn't paying attention to anyone or anything, but he didn't. He sat with Rowan and made sure the business portion of his Father's, and by extension _his,_ company ran smoothly for a good two hours as She helped Lucy finish up her school work.

 

He always found that it was easier to do these things when he was with Rowan rather than at home because unlike Dick, she wasn't constantly trying to get him to do something. She'd even told Lucy not to bother him. Once she realized that he'd know if she slipped a cherry bomb in his pocket, which she'd actually tried, she pretty much gave up. He'd taken the rest, and he hadn't told Rowan because he had a feeling that she'd confiscate them. They were low grade, but throwing them at Jason later would be fun none the less.

 

Rowan and Lucy finally ended their scholastic session for the day when Director Jennings, as they called him, found them and asked Damian to fix the last computer. Since the man had done it politely, and Lucy had been begging Rowan to jump rope with her for the last hour, Damian obliged.

Privately, he thought that she shouldn't be doing this. It wasn't so much that he was against her charity; it was just that he knew Gotham had a way of twisting that charity and sucking the life out of people. She'd never much invested herself in the fucked up community she'd been born too. For that, he was thankful because it let him keep her safe. Being an introvert was a wonderful thing when riots in the streets were not uncommon. Most of the time when Gotham's more chaotic inhabitants found their way into Rowan's area; he didn't have to worry about her because he knew she would be as safe as she could get in her home.

 

Logically he knew that she'd eventually get caught up in something or the other, as it was basically a rite of passage in their town. But, looking at Rowan play jump rope with the other girl as dusk settled behind them, well, he couldn't help but get the feeling that 'eventually' would come far sooner than either of them would care for. At the moment, all he could do was watch, and silently vow that if she found herself in trouble, he'd be the first one there. 

 

Damian probably wouldn’t have noticed had he not finished fixing the laptop in a little over fifteen minutes. The task he’d been given wasn’t all that hard in the first place, so it truly didn’t need all of his attention anyway.

 

But, alas he’d been staring at Rowan play double-dutch with Lucy for the better part of the hour, so he noticed. He noticed as she, not surprisingly, got tired and overheated as she struggled to keep up with the fast pace of the younger girl. He noticed as the program coordinators watched everyone in the yard carefully.

 

He took no stalk of it for the most part since Rowan herself was a minor, and could not be held _entirely_ responsible for the 7 year old she’d been put in charge of. Sure she took pretty good care of the girl when she fell or tried to get in fights with the other kids, which seemed to happen _a lot_ , but it probably wasn’t proper to leave everything to her.

 

When Rowan got too hot and eventually took off her jacket, however, well then Damian got a little… Agitated.

 

He’d known since the very beginning that Rowan was what today’s society called an ‘early bloomer’. She’d had a taste for baggy clothes since he’d met her, and she’d never really grown out of it. She could be found divulging in a fashionable fad every now and again, but for the most part she preferred comfort over all. It was for that very reason that most people couldn’t even tell that her chest wasn’t exactly proportionate to the rest of her. Combined with her short stature, and somewhat pudgy frame, most people didn’t even consider it.

 

But he knew. He spent so much time in close contact with her that it was almost impossible for him _not_ too. Still, when she took off her jacket and proceeded in yet another round of jump rope in a loose tank top with another under, well, he couldn’t exactly say that he wasn’t _somewhat_ startled.

 

That definitely didn’t have anything to do with the fact that there were just so many thing’s _jiggling._

 

She was by no means indecent, but he just….

 

Okay so maybe it did, but he really couldn’t face the fact that he was now fascinated with the way her breasts bounced with every jump. Because honestly this was _Rowan_ and that was just not something he’d ever really stopped to think about.

 

She’d always just kind of been there, doing whatever whenever. He’d never taken time to think about her breast size in comparison to others in her age group; or even the girls he’d experimented with. Which in hindsight was a rather big difference. She was much fuller and he’d be willing to bet all of his stock shares that she was softer too since she ate so many damn sweets.

 

And on that thought, he realized that he was outright staring so he got up and decided to stop this train right on its tracks.

 

“Fuck this,” he said to himself quietly as he quickly made his way towards Rowan.

 

When he made it to the front, he noticed a couple of boys about his age standing nearby. They were obviously loitering and he scoffed, taking the stairs down to the open yard two at a time. He was silent as he walked up behind the rough looking kids.

 

He made sure to follow their line of sight, and felt his jaw clench; it was definitely Rowan.

“What they hell are you two ingrates looking at?”

 

They both jumped and turned towards him with startled eyes. Once they saw it was him though, they settled down. They shouldn’t have, and he had every intention of teaching them that.

 

“Aww man, you freaked us out,” one of them said.

 

The other laughed, and then nodded in Rowan’s direction.

 

“The chubby girl over there has huge boobs, you’re her friend right? You know if they’re actually real?”

 

Damian honestly had no idea what to say to the boy, because there was just _so much stupidity_ in his sentence. Rowan was 13, there was no way they could be anything _but_ natural. On top of that the pathetic perverts shouldn’t even have been looking.

 

“Get the fuck away from here before I hang you by your entrails you pathetic snot nosed idiots,” he hissed, making sure they knew just how _pissed_ they were making him.

 

He didn’t wait for them to leave before he pulled Rowan out from between the jump ropes, mid jump. She got tangled in the rope and he caught her before she fell.

 

“What the heck are you doing!” Lucy shouted from her position on the opposite side of the ropes. He assumed that she had been waiting to jump in. She’d have to do that by herself.

 

“Put on your jacket Rowan, we’re leaving.”

 

The girl in question scrunched up her face at him as she untangled herself from the ropes.

 

“Why?”

 

He’d meant to give her an answer. He really had.

 

Then he’d been distracted when she quite literally stuck her hand down her own shirt.

 

“Why the fuck are you fondling yourself?”

 

She paused, hand _still_ in her shirt, and gave him a look that made him think he was missing something.

 

They stood there for a few seconds, simply staring at each other before Rowan apparently decided to ignore him and kept digging around in her shirt.

 

Her dismissal irritated him so he simply remedied the situation himself and pulled her hand away. This, unfortunately, had two undesirable side effects.

 

The first was that his knuckles actually ended up brushing against the top of her breasts and the fact that the skin was _extremely_ soft burned itself into his memory.

 

The second was that she’d apparently been gripping her breast for dear life because one ended up half spilling out of her shirt.

 

He couldn’t help but stare, but Rowan apparently didn’t give a flying fuck because she just yanked her hand away and tucked it back in. She dug around for a few extra seconds, even leaning forward slightly before she _finally_ stopped.

 

“Dude,” she said turning around to pick up her jacket, “I needed to adjust my boob. You’ve seen me do it before.”

 

If he’d given himself a chance, he probably could have come to that conclusion himself.

 

But he’d honestly been extremely distracted and he knew that he had a lot to think about that night.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Rowan had noticed that Damian had been acting weird all day.

 

She found out why very abruptly around 7 pm that night while they were playing Assassin’s Creed.

 

Rowan had Bottom’s Up by Trey Songz playing in the background for one reason: she liked Nicki Minaj’s part and she may or may not have been planning on pausing the game when it got there.

 

Okay so when the part just before Nicki’s verse came up Rowan definitely paused, definitely put her hand on Damian’s shoulder, and definitely sang with specific parts of Nicki’s verse.

 

 _Trey_  
I was like yo trey  
Do you think you can buy me a bottle of Rose

She took a quick breath and moved her hand of off Damian’s shoulder as he shook his head at her.

 __  
Okay lets get it now  
I'm wit a bad bitch he's wit his friends  
I don't say "Hi", I say "Keys to the Benz"  
Keys to the Benz? Keys to the Benz!  
Motherfuckin right yeah weed to the 10

The first time he’d heard her rap, he’d straight up laughed at her. She’d threatened to deprive him of snacks though, so that was the end of that. She glanced at him and let out a small laugh as she noticed him tapping his fingers to the fast rhythm. The boy didn’t like rap or pop music in the slightest, but she made him deal with it when she felt like listening to the stuff.

 __  
Excuse me I'm sorry I'm really such a lady  
I rep young money  
You know Slim, Baby?  
And we be doin donuts while we wave in the 3-80  
We give a lot of money to the babies out in Haiti  
Yellin all around the world  
Do you hear me? Do you like my body?  
Anna Nicki

 

She fluttered here eyelashes at him in an exaggerated way as she sang the breathy part, and she was happy when he chuckled slightly. Honestly seeing him laugh was one of the reasons why she did it.

  
_Rest in peace to Anna Nicole Smith_  
Yes, my dear, you're so explosive  
Say hi to Mary, Mary and Joseph  
Now bottoms up and double my dosage

She didn’t bother to unpause the game as the song ended and a comfortable silence settled as she grinned at him.

 

He watched her watching him for a while before he reached out and placed his hand completely over her face, pushing her entire head away from him. She couldn't help but break out into giggles as she grabbed at his wrist to move his hand.

 

"What was that for?" she asked him.

 

He didn't answer her, and she fixed the glasses he'd knocked crooked by pushing her so that she could see his face. When she saw the stillness there, her own smile slipped from her lips.

 

"Damian?" she asked carefully.

 

He stared hard at the carpet, almost as if trying to find the answer to some enigma. She let him take as long as he needed.

 

"Rowan," he intoned as he caught her gaze," I'm leaving for Titan's Tower this weekend."

 

It wasn't what he said that had her freezing up, so much as _how_ he said it. He'd gone to Star City before, but this time his words sounded so much more... Final.

 

She'd never been slapped in the face, but she was sure that this was what it felt like. She tried to search his eyes for something, _anything_ that would chase away the heavy feeling that was beginning to sink into her guy, but she found no reprieve.

 

"When-" she took a breath and dug her fingers into the carpet, steeling herself," when did you find this out?"

 

Her voice sounded shaky to her own ears and she hated it. She was almost sure that this was a spontaneous thing, that he'd just found out, that he-

 

"Last week."

 

Slap number two stung more than number one.

 

"Oh."

 

He cleared his throat and began to play with the idle controller in his hands.

 

"I'll be gone for a year, but I'll more than likely visit. Tim's coming to help me move tomorrow, he'll probably be by after you're out of school."

 

She could feel _something_ rising within her and she knew it wasn't tears; it couldn't be. It wasn't like Damian was leaving for good. It wasn't like she'd never be able to talk to him.

 

But she was thinking of Tim in that moment, and she knew things were going to change. When Tim had made his long term move, their communication had slowed. She barely noticed because Damian kept it flowing fairly well, but she'd seen it. She'd seen it, and now with Damian leaving too she could almost feel the loss. 

 

She feels it like the universe feels the light of a star that's already died. But she doesn't want to admit that. She does at want to tell Damian not to stay that long, and not to forget her. She doesn't want to be clingy and make him promise to call her every day. She doesn't want to drag him down because despite what he wanted to believe, he _needed_ this interaction.

 

She doesn't even want to acknowledge it, so she latches on to her first escape.

 

"But wha about Tim?"

 

Damian looks surprised, but she won't let him go back.

 

"What about you two together? What about your Marks?"

 

It's a sensitive subject and she's pressing buttons but she's biting the bullet and it pays off when he actually answers and her topic change is successful.

 

"We... Are dealing with it," he states simply.

 

She can see something interesting there though, so she pushes on, tangling her fingers in her bracelets. She's got them up to her elbow today, as she does must days, and she can barely see her own skin beneath them.

 

"So you two are dating now?"

 

He lets out a harsh bark of laughter that startles her enough to look at him dead on.

 

"Of course not! Why would I ever date that spineless bastard?"

 

She shouldn't be surprised at his response, so she's not.

 

"Because he's your Soul Mate? Geez dude, he's strong enough and you know it no matter what you say."

 

'Because he's your Soul Mate' wouldn't be a valid excuse for a lot of people, but she knows Tim, and she knows Damian, so it is.

 

"Tt, I kissed Drake and he could barely keep up," Damian said haughtily , rolling his eyes.

 

She pierces her lips and gives him a hard stare. She's not surprised that they've missed either; the sexual tension between them was real.

 

"You ever think that maybe you're moving too fast?"

Damian rolled his eyes again and Rowan knew she was going to have to break him out of that habit because it was irritating.

 

And then she remembered that he wouldn't be _here_ for her to do that and suddenly that thick ball was back in her throat.

 

"Please, I'm sure Drake is already fucking his Superman knock off. It's fine."

 

That got Rowan's attention well enough.

 

"Not everyone's a ho like you, Damian."

 

It was true too, Damian had an interesting sex drive for someone who was barely 15. The boy had been coming back with some interesting stories for the past few months, and she was starting to wonder where he actually found these people, and if he was being safe. Knowing Damian the answer was yes, but she still worried.

 

"Drake's a cock slut if I've ever seen one and you know it," the green eyed boy.

 

Rowan slapped his knee and he moved away from her.

 

"Shut up Damian, you haven't seen much of anything."

 

He raised one eyebrow and she had the vague feeling that she'd just walked into a trap.

 

"There was this 18 year old guy I met last month who spent an hour doing nothing but licking my-"

 

"Yo!" she had to cut him off there," first of all that's illegal, second of all I don't need to know, third of all I'd rather see your Marks right now actually."

 

He smirked at her, but she could see the slight falter. She'd never asked to see his marks before, and he'd never volunteered. But she didn't really feel in the mood to listen to Damian prattle on about some new sexual thing he'd tried, so she pushed a little.

 

"Really?"

 

"Really," she answered back.

 

Despite the hesitance she'd seen before, he was quick to pull off his shirt. She hadn't seen him shirtless since before he got his Marks, but the view was nearly the same. The boy still had zero body fat, he still had scars (and she was sure he should have had more, but from what she'd seen he healed freakishly fast so that was whatever). His chest was slightly broader, though, and his light smattering of hair had evolved into a neat happy trail. It was kind of weird for her to look at in all honesty.

 

What really drew her eye, however, was the really generic 'Hi' on his collar bone. It wasn't so much the word itself that drew her, as it was the bite mark that surrounded it.

 

"Dude did you let someone bite you?" she asked before she could stop herself.

 

The bite wasn't knew, but it had to have been deep for it to heal over in such a prominent scar.

She was confused for a second when Damian just grinned at her, but then she got it.

 

".... This is your mark isn't it?"

 

He grinned wider and she couldn't help but bait him.

 

"I knew you where a ho."

 

He shot out before she could stop him and punched her in her side. Her entire body jolted as the sharp feeling shot like lightening to every one of her nerve endings and she squealed indignantly. 

 

She glared at him when he turned away as if he hadn't just been a little bitch.

 

She huffed and sought out his other mark.

 

"Is your second on your torso too?" She mumbled, rubbing at her _still_ smarting side.

 

In response, he turned around and flexed the muscles on his scared, but still somehow smooth back. The familiar script forming the words 'Get a grip, will you?' glinted in the dim light of her living room. The words were beautiful, much more so than those on his front. They seemed to move as he did, with every inhale, every beat of his heart. They were alive in her eyes, eating up the skin they possess. Owning it. They were...

 

"Flames..." she whispered to herself.

 

Damian locked eyes with her over his shoulder.

 

"Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice..." he started.

 

Her gaze fell back to Damian's mark. Tim's flames. Their passion.

 

"...From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire," she finished the quote.

 

"Robert Frost," they said together, the satisfaction that she knew the poem evident in Damian's tone.

 

It was fitting, from what she'd seen of the two of them together. They were scalding, in more ways then one. There was fire there, and a lot of it. She only hoped that in such close quarters, they didn't burn their entire world down.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Thousands of miles away, Talia al Ghul sat serenely in a chair, legs crossed as she read the latest reports on her son. A small smile graced her full lips, and she took a satisfied sip of the red wine she held in her other hand. 

 

"Lady Talia?" a voice questioned from just behind her. 

 

She closed her eyes and favored the flavor of her scarlet drink.

 

"He's ready," she said quietly when she opened her eyes again.

 

She made a vague gesture with her wine glass, beckoning the being behind her to come forth. Like a good soldier, he did as he was told. She handed him the folder in her hands.

 

Her voice was steady as she spoke, for she'd never felt stronger. She'd left her boy with Batman, yes, but there was a darkness in him. A darkness that Gotham had only fostered in the past years. A darkness that she could harness.

 

"Read this, memorize it. My son and I? We will bring this world to its knees. And if he won't join me, well," she laughed, watching the Heretic flip through Damian's skill assessment," then you will bring him to his."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, yes, so all of you have noticed that the whole Death of the Family arc didn't happen in this fic, yes? Well Damian's Mama needs to be in this, so we're gonna do this my way. >:) Remember, this OT3 may be hopped up on sugar, but they aren't always sweet.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IM SCREAMING BECAUSE I HAD FINALS AND I DIED A LITTLE BIT INSIDE. OMFG  
> Okay but now that that’s over and it’s summer time, I give you this. Thanks for sticking with me. This is the story I have the most invested in, and I’m glad there are people enjoying it. 
> 
> On a different note, I am trash and here is some citrus. Warning: M/M interaction, underage.  
> I try to get everything, so I may have over labeled but I’d rather be an aggressive labeler than have someone triggered by my lack of attention.  
> If you’re not into the sexy times, skip the first part to the next page break.  
> I didn’t know if you guys would be into the full shebang so I made it kind of vague. Idk though because I’m planning on writing some pretty hard core stuff later on, all of which Rowan will either be awkwardly involved in or even more awkwardly witness to. Poor girl has no idea what’s in store for her. There was some other stuff I wanted to say, but for now I’m really tired ;-;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, very long AN ahead
> 
> This is in response to icouldnotstopforit's comment/question on the last chapter.
> 
> Okay so I really enjoyed reading this; this is the kind of comment I love!
> 
> So we'll start with the first paragraph: I think you summed up their relationship to the T. They have this sort of pure trust between them, but it's limited. They're young, and while Ro's are more obvious, they've both got insecurities. Tim does as well, and it's going to be a bit before they all become comfortable enough to share the deepest parts of themselves with each other. 
> 
> Paragraph 2: There will be a fairly large jump, but not for at least one more chapter. I think chapter 13 signifies the time jumps becoming significantly smaller. We won't have entire years gone without something in between now. There will eventually be a point where the biggest jump will only be 1-3 months. As for Damian, well he's complicated. Damian already does some things that may surprise you, it's just a matter of exactly what type of caring he views it as. We'll probably learn more about that in the next chapter when Rowan has a... Talk with Tim. Rowan is not what Damian would consciously expect in a Soul Mate at this point. While Tim admits that he cares deeply for Rowan as a friend, Damian has trouble admitting even that to himself right now. He knows, but it rubs him the wrong way. 
> 
> Paragraph 3: Okay, so we're learning a bit more about Soul Marks in this chapter, but I'll also put this in to clear things up for others just in case. You figure out who your Soul Mate is in a number of ways. If you've already met them, or are waiting to meet them, you simply know by the words themselves. If the words are too generic, like Rowan and her one word greetings .-., then you can sometimes tell by the hand writing since no matter what it looks like, the form is always your Soul Mates writing. Sometime there's even an issue with that though, since the stylistic elements can distort the writing. Also generally with short words, it's harder to tell who's the hand writing looks like.
> 
> As for what's around it, well that just depends on the people. Like The stylistic elements of Tim's mark on Damian are the words themselves. The stylistic element on Rowan's is the bite mark around the words. I know it's going to be frustrating, but we won't learn why it's a bite mark for a while. It's a combination of elements that I don't quite want them experimenting with yet. Also, the mark itself is subject to change... And you'll learn more about that in this chapter. But yes, marks are ALWAYS subjective. It's one of the flaws in the system, but then again nothing's perfect. It is easy to find beauty in imperfection, though
> 
> I hope that clears things up! And if not feel free to ask more questions. I'll answer! ( provided I think I won't give away too much, of course! ;)

The moment Damian arrived home after spending the evening with Rowan, he did not sleep. There was a nagging feeling of an emotion he did not want to deal with in the back of his mind. His stomach was oddly unsettled, yet he knew he'd done nothing wrong.

 

He hadn't even needed to tell Rowan he was leaving; it was perfectly logical to assume that she could have figured it out on her own. She was easily distracted, sure, but she wasn’t stupid. She should count herself lucky that he'd even taken the time out of his busy schedule to mention it to her.

 

Despite knowing this, the odd feelings within him remained. Despite his perfectly logical actions, Damian felt shame.

 

He hated that feeling. He hated it, and so the moment he stepped foot in his home he resolved to drown the illogical feeling. He was not completely clear on what he would do, but there were plenty projects he had planned in his room that needed his attention.

 

Yet that was not where he found himself by the end of the night. 

 

Instead, he'd bypassed his own room completely and headed straight to one of the rooms that were forever on reserve strictly for the Wayne sons. More specifically, he headed to Tim's room.

 

In the beginning, he'd had no intention of doing so. Somehow, however, his feet had brought him to the older boy's door and since he was already there, he wasted no time on waiting for permission to enter.

 

Instead, he simply opened the door, stepped in, and closed it behind him. Really, there was nothing to it. He rationalized that he needed to tell Tim to visit Rowan anyway. He figured Tim would have visited their smaller friend anyway, but she’d looked so crestfallen at the news of both of their departures that he simply couldn’t resist trying to reassure her. He wouldn’t have done it had it been anyone else, but Rowan tended to look like a small, wounded animal when she was sad and he couldn’t exactly deny his soft spot for animals.

 

So he’d told her that Tim would be by, and now he had to alert the aforementioned boy.

 

Except Tim, ever the annoying idiot, had to go and start something.

 

"Damian what the hell!"

 

At Damian's entrance Tim had jerked away from whatever he'd been working on at his desk. Curious, Damian walked over. He was able to catch 'Wayne Enterprises' printed in bold script along the top of a few pages before Tim stood up. Though his glance had been brief, he'd also seen a hastily discarded tablet under a separate stack of papers.

 

Because of Damian's proximity, they were nearly chest to chest.

 

"There an issue, Drake?" he asked coolly.

 

Damian thought whatever Tim had been doing before must have been quite taxing, because his face was flushed and his breathing was shallow. He fought the sudden burst of laughter at the older boy’s appearance. He would have never expected Tim of all people to be doing that kind of thing so out in the open. But then again…

 

Tim's face seemed to darken with his irritation, and despite himself, Damian found it... Delicious.

 

Damian's eyes where kept from wandering as he locked gazed with the male in front of him.

 

"My only issue is _you,_ Damian."

 

Tim sounded irritated, and Damian smirked. The older boy didn't want him trust passing on what he considered _his_ territory. He was touchy about very few things, but personal space was one of them. That alone was enough to make Damian agree to go to Titan's tower. Having him there would irritate Tim to no end.

 

There was just something about pushing Tim's buttons that pleased Damian.

 

As Damian let his eyes roam over Tim's form, he noticed something very important.

 

' _Speaking of buttons..._ '

 

Tim's pants button was undone, and his zipper was down. That confirmed Damian’s suspicions that Tim had been doing a little more than paperwork, and his hasty clean up hadn't helped to hide anything. He couldn't blame the blue eyed boy, however, because hiding an erection down one’s pant leg wasn't the easiest of things.

 

Something deep within Damian seemed to ignite, and he full heartedly embraced to burn. There was no reason not to, after all. He saw nothing wrong in going after what he wanted, and at that moment, he wanted to see exactly what one Timothy Drake had going on under his snug fitting jeans.

 

"What'd you think you're looking at?" Tim breathed.

 

He sounded angry, yet his cheeks flushed a deeper red and his eyes darkened to a blue so deep they were nearly black.

 

So Damian moved before Tim could even dare and hooked his fingers in Tim's open fly.

 

His fingertips brushed against Tim's cock, and the older boy gasped openly at the contact. He tried to jerk away, but the movement only made Damian's knuckles rub against Tim's burning length and 'getting away' turned into grinding that brought Damian's hand up against his lower stomach, barely helping to create a barrier between their groins.

 

He thought that was quite a shame, considering the fact that he was most definitely straining against his own fly now.

 

Yet he didn't move his hand. Instead he worked his fingers into a slow stroking rhythm that was barely possible in their awkward positioning, but he knew would drive any male completely mad.

 

He'd learned that first hand.

 

"Don't-" Tim tried to gasp out, his voice hoarse.

 

Damian knew Tim was probably thinking far too hard instead of simply accepting the situation. While he could admit that his forethought was a rather useful trait, he didn't need pensive Tim.

 

He _wanted_ the Tim who'd kissed him after ice skating with more passion then he'd ever used to fight him. He _wanted_ the Tim who had fingers skilled enough to weave throuogh Rowan's hair so that the older boy could use those skilled fingers on him.

 

 _'I **need** him because he’s nothing if not driven and he tastes like home.' _ a traitorous voice whispered in his mind.

 

With that, he felt his heart seize and for once, he knew why. He knew, because he was working his hand farther down Tim's pants, grinding against him, and he was so close he could nearly taste Tim's breath on his own.

 

Only this time, Tim didn't taste like cinnamon and that hit him deep enough to let out two truths he’d been ignoring for quite some time.

 

The first was that despite everything he'd done in his entire 15 years of life, nothing had ever felt as effortless as being with Tim so intimately. For once, he could possibly see why exactly it was that Tim had ended up as his Soul Mate.

 

The second was that he craved the taste of warmth that had been on Tim's tongue before. He craved that saccharine quality that had come to mean safety for him. That sweetness was the one thing he'd completely associated with Rowan. Her demeanor, her looks, her habits... Were all sweet. And he craved that, he craved Rowan, who had never bothered to show him anything but patience. She was always there, no matter what. With her, nothing and no one could find him. With her, it was comfortable. It was safe. Rowan... Was home.

 

But just as his relationship with Tim sat on a precautious balance, everything about Rowan was fragile.

 

And none of those things sat well with him, so to silence his own mind he grasped Tim's erection and sealed his lips to Tim’s much pinker one's in order to silence the other black haired boys moan.

 

Tim tried to pull back but Damian followed him and smoothed his lips down the column of his throat.

 

"Wait," Tim ground out.

 

Damian didn't want to.

 

He bit down hard on Tim's pulse and the older boy yelped.

 

"Fuck!" he shouted, and Damian couldn't help but laugh in response.

 

His laugh, however, was cut short by the hand that tangled in his short hair and pulled him back up.

 

Tim's eyes were wild when they locked gazes, and Damian was sure that he looked just the same.

 

"What?" he bit out, making sure to keep his grip firm on Tim's hard on. The older boy wouldn't be getting away so easily. Especially since Tim wanted it just as bad, if the hand pulling him closer by his ass was any indication.

 

He felt Tim's fingers twitch before he answered.

 

"What are we doing?"

 

"Enjoying ourselves," Damian replied easily, rolling his hips to make his point.

 

Tim's breathe hitched.

 

"That's not the point Damian. I mean _what are we really doing?_ You don't want me; you made that clear. The fact that we're Soul Mates doesn't change the fact that we can't stand each other."

 

 _'That's not true,’_ the same traitorous voice from earlier whispered in Damian's mind. He was growing to hate that voice, especially since it was making itself known more and more often.

 

But he was used to voices telling him things; his mind trying to supply what was _right._ But following those impulses almost always ended with the situation bloody, and his Father glaring in disapproval. So he did what he'd been training himself to do and ignored it.

 

"You're right," he said instead," I can't stand you. But I want you, and as far as I'm concerned that's good enough. “

 

And then he kissed those pink lips again and they were gone.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Rowan’s love of sharpies was no secret. She had at least three different colors on her at all times, and the school rule of ‘no permanent markers’ was one of the very few she chose to break with absolutely no remorse on a regular basis. Besides, after the sixth time her teacher’s caught her drawing flowers on her arm in kindergarten, it became widely accepted that Rowan Chase was going to continue to put pen to skin no matter how many times she was put in the time out corner. And pen to binder, and pen to cup, and pen to literally everything that wasn’t 100% not her property. That was pretty much the only thing she was known for at school, and it had carried on with her as she moved through the grades. Of course there was also the fact that she was pretty good with her school work, but most kids cared more about the endless supply of markers they could borrow from her.

 

However despite knowing about her fondness for name brand markers, her Mama was still pissed when she found Rowan in the mirror with a magenta sharpie on her cheek. It was that moment when Rowan learned that her Mama apparently drew the line at putting things that weren’t explicitly _made_ for her face, on said face.

 

She supposed she should have seen that coming considering how much the woman was into her cosmetics.

 

After lecturing her on the harms of putting the chemicals in sharpies on such delicate skin, especially at her age, her Mama dumped her rather sizable bag of makeup on Rowan’s lap before she left for work. The only words Rowan got after that where ‘If you want to draw on your face, use this. I showed you how to use it for a reason.’

 

Rowan, of course, knew how to use most cosmetic products. Between her Gran, who was an avid lover of Avon, and her Mama, who damn near prayed to MAC, she had to. Her sisters tended to want her to put makeup on them when they came over as well, so there was that. She was also expected to know how to walk in sky high heels, but that wasn’t exactly relevant.

 

What was relevant was the fact that she was bored, so she took her Mama’s advice and proceeded to spill the entire contents of the makeup bag on her bed, and sort through what she wanted. Her Gran preferred a lighter, more natural approach to her daily mask. Her Mama, on the other hand, somehow came prefer darker, smokier looks. Because of the time both women spent teaching her what she preferred to call ‘their art forms’, Rowan knew how to do both. She didn’t much like wearing makeup since it was just too much effort for her to want to care about, but when she did put it on she tended to lean more towards darker stuff like her Mama.

 

Once she had what she wanted, she balanced a hand mirror in front of her and went to work. She still had sharpie on her face, so she’d have to scrub that off first.

 

Not fifteen minutes later, that was where Tim found her.

 

She’d known he was coming, but not when. Luckily she’d heard the door open in the living room, so she’d expected someone coming and hadn’t jumped when he walked into her room. It would have either been him or her Gran, so there was no need to worry.

 

He sat next to her pile of cosmetics, and picked up a tube of lipstick with a curious stare.

 

"What're you doing?"

 

Still preoccupied with balancing her mirror between her knees and prepping her face for the first, and what she was coming to realize would be the last, time with primer, she didn't even bother to glance at him.

 

"I wanted to see if I could do full makeup," is what she said, carefully so as to not mess up her focus.

 

 _'Playing with paint from the depths of hell,'_ is what went through her head, though. The shit was great, but it was hard to get off and even harder to keep from getting messed up.

 

He laughed softly beside her, and tossed her lipstick back in the pile.

 

"Since when are you into makeup? You don't even look like you're enjoying yourself."

 

Rowan couldn't help but snort, and she turned to him with a stare.

 

The boy damn well knew she never _wore_ makeup, just as he knew she'd been putting the stuff on her Mama and sisters for years. She'd heard the line 'my hand is too shaky to do my eyes' far too often in her lifetime.

 

Finally, however, she decided to take pity on him.

 

Okay so really, she was sick of feeling stuff on her face and she needed something to distract herself from wiping at her primer. Sharpie was one thing, but no matter how weightless the bottle _said_ the product was, she could still feel it. She could hardly handle eyeliner, eye shadow, mascara, and lipstick at the best of times. She had no idea how she'd do all the _extra_ stuff like foundation and blush.

 

"I wanted to play around with it."

 

"Oh," Tim said.

 

There was something... Off about him and she couldn't quite tell what it was. She was distracted, however, when he followed up his short answer with an intriguing offer.

 

"You can try it on me."

 

Not quite believing him, she arched an eyebrow. He returned her stare, dead serious. After a minute, she shrugged and accepted it. Besides, she did kind of want to see what he looked like with makeup.

 

After making sure the primer was spread evenly on her face, she got up and went to her desk to grab a hair clip. Tim had a lot of hair, and it would need to stay out of his face if she was going to not fuck said face up.

 

"I need to put your hair up," she told him, hands already working with the silky strands. In all honesty, she probably loved his hair more than he did. It was so different from her’s; therefore it was more fun to play with.

 

He snorted.

 

"What?" Rowan murmured, concentrating on not pulling his hair.

 

"You're supposed to tell a person what you're doing _before_ you start doing it, Ro."

 

She stilled for a minute. He had a point. But then again, she didn't really care about his point so she got back to work then went around to get in front of him once she was done.

 

Carefully, she moved up onto her knees so that she was angled slightly above him. Once she was comfortably situated, she slipped her hand under his chin and tilted his head up.

 

And then promptly went scarlet because holy shit the boy was pretty. She'd always teased him for it before, but he always had been beautiful. Up close, now that she was legitimately studying him with a more critical eye, that was all too apparent.

 

She could practically see how the makeup mask would form on his face. The corners of his eyes were naturally slanted slightly upwards, and would flow beautifully with a thin cat eye. She wasn't even sure he'd need mascara, as his eyelashes were naturally long and thick. His skin was relativity clear for a teenage boy; no doubt due to a combination of good genes, diet, exercise, and thorough cleansing.  His lips where on the thinner side, but extremely pink. In fact, she was pretty sure she'd seen the color in shades of lip gloss before.

 

She imagined shades of pink lip gloss lining an isle with ‘Timmy Lips’ right next to ‘Bubblegum’. That was a horrible name and she damn near burst out laughing right in his face. But, she was a little too distracted still.

 

In short he was really fucking beautiful and she needed some ice for her face.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

He was so used to looking down on Rowan, that when she positioned herself above him at such a high angle, it was almost startling. From this angle, he could see the soft line of her jaw, and various birthmarks under her chin that he'd never noticed before.

 

He could also see that the cherry hue he was so familiar with didn’t actually start at her cheeks. The bright coloring actually originated from just under her jawline.

 

 _'And on that note'_ he thought.

 

"There a problem?" he asked her aloud.

 

She'd frozen quite suddenly, and he couldn't help but give her a warm smile in reassurance.

 

As if shaking off a blanket, she shivered and her paralysis seemed to melt away.

 

"Yeah," she muttered, eyeing him critically.

 

At that, he fought his own shiver. Agreeing to be her doll for the day wasn't something he'd ever tell anyone, but at the same time he trusted her not to ruin his face. He'd seen her frost enough cakes, so how hard could this be in comparison?

 

She hummed quietly to herself, and suddenly moved her palm up to better position his face. He hadn't noticed, but she'd picked up a tiny vile of what looked like skin colored lip gloss. Except it didn't match _her_ skin color, and she was bringing it towards his eyes. All at once, he felt every last bit of his attention snap on to her, and his body went as tense as a tightly drawn wire.

 

"What're you doing?" he asked her sharply.

 

He honestly hadn't meant to be so harsh, as she'd pulled quickly back the moment he'd spoken, eyes wide.

 

"It's just primer," she assured him quickly, as if he'd know what she was talking about.

 

He didn't.

 

"What's primer?"

 

She calmed fairly fast, and handed to small tube to him. He skimmed over the microscopic words on the tube, and after gathering that it was basically supposed to help eye makeup set, he gave it back. She didn't go back to her task immediately, though.

 

"You trust me, yeah?" She asked twisting her fingers in a nervous way he took to mean that she was now starting to get uncomfortable.

 

He almost said no. If he had, he could have turned it around and pointed out that she hadn't exactly been telling the truth lately. He could make her feel bad, corner her. She'd tell him whatever he wanted to know.

 

But then she wouldn't trust _him_ , and that would do nothing for either of them.

 

So instead he stuck with his plan to get her calm enough to talk to him. It was his usual plan when it came to Rowan.

 

Besides, despite everything, he did trust her. She was just about the only one who wasn't trying to beat him at his own games these days. He didn't want to dwell on what exactly that said about him. And then there was Damian… Who he really didn’t need to be thinking about.

 

"Yeah Ro, of course I do, why wouldn't I?"

 

She shrugged, and glanced off towards her left where her pile of makeup was neatly laid out.

 

"Then just let me do a thing, okay? Close your eyes."

 

He still wasn’t exactly sure about what they were doing, but he was sure that he trusted her. So he relaxed his tense muscles, and closed his eyes.

 

Almost immediately, he felt a cool substance smeared across his eyelids and nothing but sheer force of will kept him from wincing. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, though. Eventually, he even managed to relax and really focus on the motions Rowan was going through.

 

After she was done with her primer, he felt a brush moving lightly against his eyelid. He couldn’t help but smile. She was always so careful in everything she did, so soft.

 

After the brush, he felt a thin point gliding along the edge of his eyelid. He may not have been a master in the art of cosmetics, but he knew enough to know that she was probably putting eyeliner on him. Although when she went over her tracks again with a wetter, paint like substance, he was a little confused, but he let her continue.

 

“Make sure to keep your eyes closed,” she said softly to him.

 

He figured out why she’d reminded him when he felt an easy current of air against his eyes. She was probably blowing on her handiwork, trying to dry it.

 

After she was done, he was surprised to find that the process had only taken about 15 minutes. He was also surprised by the look of awe he saw in her eyes the moment he opened his own.

 

“What?” he asked her.

 

“Oh, uh,” she spluttered awkwardly, “it’s just, you’re uh, you look really pretty…” she ended lamely, not quite looking at him and twisting her fingers around each other.

 

He couldn't help but laugh, and he was all geared up to tease the ever living hell out of her when he was interrupted by a short burst of music. Rowan was visibly startled, and he backed off as she leaned away from him and pulled her phone out of her back pocket. The iPhone was new, as she’d just gotten it last month, and he could tell she still wasn’t used to it. Personally after dealing with Wayne tech for so long, both he and Damian hated the damn thing. She didn’t exactly have access to the electronics they did, though, so he let it go.

 

The blush on her cheeks had cooled until she was back to her normal freckled color. The content, almost placid expression on her face was probably one of his favorites. He could admit that her flustered face amused him, but even that was only under certain circumstances.

 

Rowan, easily startled little bird that she was, had certain levels of embarrassment. The first two or three where harmless and consisted mostly of blushing. After that, well... She tended to get a little self-destructive and that had always been something that bothered him. When she was feeling too much, she had a tendency to twist at her bracelets until they rubbed her skin raw, or other similar things. For that reason, he always made sure not to push too far with his jokes.  Damian, on the other hand, never seemed to notice when he'd pushed her too her limits. 

 

Now, as he studied her during one of her moments of comfort, he noticed her expression begin to morph into slight revulsion. Still, he himself grinned because he knew if she was showing this much feeling then she was still comfortable with him.

 

"What's with the look," he asked, tossing a stray sharpie at her.

 

When she was relaxed like this, she tended to get playful. Sometimes though, it was hard to tell when she was in her better moods. He knew that when they were in public the chances of her being completely calm where pretty much zero, but alone like this she was almost always okay.

 

His suspicions where confirmed when she stuck her tongue out at him and threw something back. He caught it, and figured out that it was mascara as she spoke.

 

"It's just Tati, she wants me to go to a party with her."

 

She pulled one leg up to her chest and tucked her knee under her chin, wrapping an arm around it to hold it in place once she was done. She softly tapped her dark blue nails against the hard shell of her phone with her free hand. Though she wasn’t one for makeup, even she tended to almost always have her nails painted. Because of her constant fidgeting and baking, they were almost always chipped, though.

 

As she was settling into her spot, he figured that he should probably try and see what she'd done to his face.

 

"You don't want to go?" he asked as he pushed some of the junk on her bed around to find the mirror he thought he'd spied earlier.

 

When he'd pushed aside four different colored sharpies, two half full bags of candy, and six paperback books, he decided that she really did keep too many miscellaneous items in her bed.

 

She made a gross, almost gurgling sound behind him and he turned around to see that she'd crossed her eyes too.

 

"Okay Ro, it can't be _that_ bad."

 

She rolled her eyes and rocked back slightly.

 

"You've never been to one of the parties Tati gets herself invited to."

 

"Well, have you?" he shot back.

 

Rowan hated sitting in the lunch room at school, so he seriously doubted that she'd ever actually gone to a party that wasn't happening because it was someone's birthday. She wasn't a complete loner, but she wasn't exactly a social butterfly either.

 

She shrugged, and he knew he was right.

 

Tim glanced at his phone, and seeing that it wasn't _too_ late, a stray thought popped into his head.

 

"I could take you if you want."

 

She grimaced and picked up one of the sharpies he'd moved earlier rather than reply immediately. She uncapped the turquoise marker and started polka dotting a bare knee.

 

Seeing that she wasn't going to respond any time soon, he decided to prod a little. He was actually curious as to what her other friends where _really_ like. It wasn't late, but then again what kind of 13 year old had a party past four in the afternoon? 

 

Besides, this was just another one of the things he'd wanted to build up the trust between them for. It was time to see if she trusted him as much as he trusted her.

 

"You know Damian and I are going to be gone for a while, why not go out for a couple hours?"

 

She stopped her carefully placed dotting to narrow her eyes at him. He’d pulled his newly acquired Damian card on her, and he could see her trying to find something to throw back at him.

 

In the end though, she said yes.

 

He figured her Mom would have said no and kicked both of their asses, but she was at work. The only one home was Rowan's Grandmother, and he'd learned that the woman could never really put her foot down when it came to her only grandchild.

 

He'd been distracted before, and he hadn't ever actually gotten the chance to look at himself.

 

They were nearly ready to go when he decided to see what Rowan was doing with her hair. What she wanted to do with the wild curls determined how much longer it would be before they actually left. The bathroom door was open, so he walked in.

 

And then shocked himself when he caught his own reflection. It took him a while to notice the soft, amused smile Rowan was giving him as she pulled her mass of hair up into a semi controlled ponytail.

 

"This looks great and all," he eventually said, eyeing the surprisingly nice picture is own eyes made," but I'm not going anywhere like this."

 

Rowan's smile turned into full blown laughter and she dropped her brush.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Rowan could hear a not so tiny voice screaming at her to turn the fuck around when she found herself in a rough looking neighborhood after getting Tati to text her directions to whatever party she'd gotten herself invited to.

 

It wasn't the neighborhood that bothered her since it was actually the same general area that Tati lived in. Her discomfort had more to do with the fact that instead of being there to hang out with her friend, she was there to attend a party she didn't want to be at. Also walking down the street with a middle class looking white boy instead of being with her Mama didn't really help.

 

While Tim wasn't into _all_ of the overpriced name brands like Damian, he still had that look about him that said 'money'. Combine that with his fancy ass car, and they were just begging to be jumped. Which was why she made him leave his car in the nicer part of town two blocks over. Sure she knew he could handle things if they got out of hand, but she really wanted to avoid it if she could.

 

Somehow they made it through the short walk, however, and Rowan found herself wishing they could turn back. Tim was the one who knocked on the door, as she hadn't wanted to do it.

 

Instead she'd texted Tati that she was there, and stood just behind Tim with her knuckles rested on his back. She hadn't wanted to go in the first place; she knew it, he knew it.

 

But then Tim had gone and done what he was good at and dug at her weak spot. He knew she'd cave if he mentioned how long he was going to be gone. Tim, for all of his good qualities, could be an ass like that.

 

Honestly she knew there was something else he was really going for here; she just had no idea what. But there had to be something; Tim never did much of anything without a reason these days.

 

Yet despite this, she'd followed along with him.

 

The moment the door opened and a loud pulse of music, heat, and weed assaulted her senses; she knew she'd regret it.

 

She'd known that the party was going to be too 'mature' for someone her age, but if Tim was going to push then she figured she'd let the boy learn all by himself.

 

As everything hit him at once and he gazed at the clouded expression of the giggling girl in front of them, his back muscles seemed to tense under her knuckles and she fought back a grin.

 

Damian was easy to surprise but rarely showed reaction, while Tim was easy to get a rise out of but hardly ever was truly surprised. As a result, Rowan would be a straight up liar if she said that she didn't enjoy pushing their buttons.

 

Tim's especially since he was less likely to get her back.

 

"Ahhh fuck, who invited your hot ass?" the slim Latina girl in front of them slurred out, moving forward to run a nicely polished hand down Tim's chest.

 

The older boy backed up, almost knocking Rowan down in his haste.

 

"Not gonna go in?" Rowan, said quietly, grinning up at her obviously flustered friend.

 

She pushed into his back slightly, now with both hands and she couldn't help her laughter as he moved slowly forward and around the tipsy girl who'd answered the door.

 

Then she promptly shut up as they entered the slightly dingy house and where surrounded by throng of people.

 

This time, Tim laughed as he gazed at her.

 

"Still in such a rush?" he asked.

 

Before she could respond, she was distracted by the smiling face of the very reason she'd even come: Tatianna.

 

" _No manches_! I didn't think you'd actually come!”

Rowan just nodded, grinned at her friend, and hooked her fingers under Tati’s in their own sort of secret greeting.

 

“This is Tatianna?” Tim whispered incredulously.

 

She could barely hear him over the music, and figuring he wouldn’t be able to hear her even if she did speak, simply shrugged. Today was going to be a learning experience for him.

 

Tati was a pretty girl with thick black hair, tan skin, and a penchant for heavy makeup. She was also kind of vicious and she'd been the first one to stand up and get some girls on the baseball team. Tati would never admit it, but as different as she and Rowan were, the one thing they'd bonded over was a shared love of manga.

 

Tatianna's love for the stuff was something she'd probably take to her grave, but with Rowan she tended to let her nerdier side show through a little.

 

With everyone else she was more 'Mexican gangster'.

 

Rowan knew aesthetically speaking; Tatianna didn’t look like someone who would hang with her. Then again, neither did Damian and Tim.

 

Tati beckoned them as she walked down a hallway, and Rowan followed with Tim at her heels. The hallway opened up into a kitchen, and though there were still people around, there were far less and the music was somewhat muted.

 

Tati leaned against a nearby counter, and Rowan vacated her place next to Tim and sidled up next to her. Tati lifted her arm so that Rowan could wrap her own around the taller girl’s waist. Tim still stood in front of them, looking like a very sad lost kitten.

 

Apparently seeing the grin on her face, Tim glared back. She blew him a raspberry and he rolled his eyes, then wandered over to the drinks.

 

“When you said you were bringing a friend, I wasn’t expecting _guero_ to be so hot. Where have you been hiding him, _chica_?” Tatianna leaned down and said quietly.

 

“San Francisco,” she stated simply. After all, she couldn’t exactly be specific and say Titan’s Tower.

 

Tati gave a low whistle.

 

“Damn, that’s Tim then?”

 

Rowan nodded, and continued to watch as Tim, looking only slightly more uncomfortable than she did, poured himself something out of a bottle that was most definitely alcohol.

 

She’d told Tati about Tim and Damian, but she’d never actually met them. Tatianna was probably the closest friend she had besides the boys, and they pretty much dominated her nights and weekends, while Tati took up a lot of her weekdays. Besides that, while Rowan had dropped baseball, Tati had kept going. As a result, they’d never really come across eachotehr.

Watching the girl eye Tim now, however, made her happy about that. Damian probably would have ripped her a new one by now if he was there with the way Tati was looking at Tim’s ass. She couldn’t blame the girl though, since Tim did have the finest butt she’d ever seen.

 

Rowan felt Tati bump her hip just before she spoke.

 

“He down to party?”

 

Rowan knew exactly what her friend meant by ‘party’, and she really didn’t want to even go there. Between Tati, Damian, and her sister Colette, she was pretty sure she was bound to end up visiting _someone_ in rehab.

 

“He’s not into drugs, babe.”

 

Tati let out a small huff.

 

“Not even weed?”

 

Tim was mixing his drink now, and idly Rowan wondered exactly how many parties Tim had been to in order to do it so effortlessly.

 

“Weed is a drug, Tati. On top of that he’s got a boyfriend.”

 

She meant Connor, but what Tatianna would never know was that in the back of her mind, she was thinking of Damian.

 

“Damn. He all for the boys, or?”

 

Rowan snorted; apparently Tati had completely ignored her after she said the word ‘boy’.

 

“He’s bisexual, but again, he’s taken.”

 

Tati shrugged after that, but still kept her eyes on Tim.

 

“Doesn’t hurt to look.”

 

Rowan could do nothing but shake her head and wonder why exactly she seemed to attract all the destructive people.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Later that night, while he’s standing under the soothing spray of a hot shower, he catches himself scratching at the back of his neck. Normally, this wouldn’t have bothered him. It was just a mild irritation, nothing more. The fact that the irritation was in the exact spot of his Soul Mark, well, that at least, made him finally stop and think.

 

The words, while unique to the person who spoke them, where also shaped physically by the person they were branded on. The view one had towards their Soul Mate often affected how the words manifested themselves. Tim, along with just about every other educated person on Earth, knew this.

 

He knew this, which was why when he’d seen the completely lackluster, simple ‘Hi’, he tried not to blame anyone but himself for how hard it would be to find the person they belonged to. Except… Except now they were itching. The small, simple word was obviously inflamed, and that could only mean one of two things: he’d somehow damaged the back of his neck, or the words were changing.

 

While the words themselves would not, could not, change, their appearance could. Sometimes, the way someone viewed another could change, so as such, the way the words appeared did too. Just as all things seemed too, Soul Marks had many variables, however. Because of this, there was also the chance that his second, unknown Soul Mate was going through some kind of change as well. Drastic things happened to people all the time, changing their personality entirely. 

 

As he thought about the possibilities, Tim couldn’t help the way his stomach churned uncontrollably. Gripping the back of his neck tighter, he moved to lean his forehead against the cool glass of the shower door. While a changing Soul Mark could certainly help him find the person faster, he just couldn’t even fathom the idea of doing so. He was already having so many problems with Damian… Not to mention the fact that he was still dating Conner. Bringing another person into the fray would just be suicide. Hell, he was already having enough trouble as it was balancing the Titans, his love life, and his familial relationships.

 

 Not to mention the fact that he still had to keep an eye on Damian to make sure he didn’t end up getting Rowan hurt. Dick could keep Damian from getting Jai, Lian, Irey, and Colin into trouble, but it was an unspoken agreement between everyone in the Wayne household that it was his job to keep Rowan from getting burned in one of Damian’s schemes. Even Bruce made sure that Carrie Kelly, the acting instructor Damian thought none of them would ever find out about, from getting herself killed. It seemed they all had picked their wards, and as usual, the moment he walked onto the scene he was left to pick up whatever fell through the cracks. Just another in a long line, as always. 

 

He couldn’t help but let out a sardonic laugh.

 

“Bet I’ll just be a replacement for this next one too,” he muttered to himself.

 

It wasn’t unheard of for a person’s Soul Mate to die, only for them to get another mark later in life. Looking back on how his life had been going, that seemed to fit him perfectly. He was good at playing the role of the replacement; never the best, but he’d do.

 

And as his thoughts led him to darker places he usually tried not to dwell in, he finally bit the bullet and got out of the shower. He picked up the phone he’d discarded on the counter earlier, still dripping wet.

 

At the moment, he could care less. He raised the device to the back of his neck and held up his hair to snap a few hurried pictures. When he pulled it back around to look, he wasn’t quite sure what he’d been expecting. 

 

Whatever it was, it sure as hell wasn’t the vaguely melted, multicolored letters he was staring at now. The picture was blurry, and at an odd angle, but he could see the now softly rounded letters clear as day. They now dripped vivid colors, quite literally. Rolling droplets slid down his neck, forever frozen just at his shoulders. The longer he looked, the more he began to see them for what they truly were. 

 

The ‘Hi’ was now literally painted onto his skin in a rainbow of colors that he knew would never dry; they’d simply run and drip down his back, staining his skin with unnatural hues. The shape was only broken by misplaced streaks, and circular breaks that almost looked like... Fingerprints. The paint glinted where the light hit it, just as it would have had it been real. 

 

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to slam his head against the wall. Almost like puzzle pieces sliding into place, the opicture arranged itself and he saw everything he'd been missing. 

 

That picture, ironically enough, had wide brown eyes and wild curls, and a history of finger painting. 

 

Tim figured there really was only one word that would properly convey how he was feeling. 

 

"Fuck."

 

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I accidentally put that Titan’s Tower was in Star City, but what it should be is San Francisco. So yeah, there’s a bit of an error in one of the previous chapters. I might go change it in the future, but for now know it’s right here. And the chapters are gonna be shorter, you guys have just been getting spoiled lately lol. So as of the last chapter, this fic is officially rated M. Idk what you guys thought of that little scene, but I think from here on out any scenes I write of a sexual nature are gonna be really graphic, so yeah. If I get reported come find me on AO3, lol.  
> Also I’m a horrible person I hope you guys enjoy the upcoming chapters. :))))))))))  
> :,)

Rowan never truly understood the expression ‘it slipped through my fingers’. If you had it, how hard was it to tighten your grip just a little bit more? If you had something that was so precious to you, wouldn’t fighting for it come naturally? Despite her admittedly jaded view on the world, that was one of the few things she simply couldn’t fathom.

Nearly a month after Damian and Tim had left for San Francisco, however, she learned that some lessons can only come with first hand experience.

The time difference between the coasts wasn’t something that bothered her too much, but every now and again she did feel the strain. She hadn’t noticed as often when Damian was still in Gotham since he was a good distraction on the best of nights, but communication from one coast to another wasn’t exactly easy.

She’d missed more calls than she cared to admit, but she always tried her best to get back to whoever it was that had tried to get in touch with her. Though she tried not to dwell on it, she noticed that Tim actually called, texted, and emailed far more than Damian did. This wouldn’t have bothered her as much if it hadn’t been for the fact that even Tim didn’t seem to have as much time these days.

Well, at least he didn’t seem to have as much time for her.

She understood, though. They _were_ heroes after all. That kind of dedication took time, and if she were busting her ass every day to defend people that sometimes didn’t necessarily deserve _or_ appreciate it, well, she’d be too tired to bother with a 13 year old on the other side of the country too.

When _Damian_ called her one weekend, though, well she was a little more than excited. He rarely called since he preferred to text, but even then it wasn’t quite the same to her. She was used to haughty expressions to go with his sarcastic words.

“I thought you were never going to pick up,” was what she was greeted with.

She’d been so surprised to see his name light up her screen that it had taken her a moment to comprehend what was happening, but his crisp words had knocked her shock right off.

She pierced her lips, and she was almost sure that she probably looked pretty unimpressed in that moment.

“Hi to you too.”

He ignored her greeting and got right to the point.

“Drake and I are in town. Are you busy?”

Rowan didn’t really want to admit that she was actually lying in her bed with a generic trashy romance novel in her hand with no pants on and unbrushed hair, so she just said no.

“Good. We’re going to a café later for lunch. I’ll text you the address after I hang up.”

Rowan simply stared at the ceiling and contemplated just hanging up since he was _assuming_ that she’d just show up. He was probably right, but still.

She heard a muffled voice in the background, and she felt the corner of her mouth quirk up when she realized that it was Tim.

“Hey-“ she started, but Damian interrupted her.

“Drake says I have to tell you that Lian and Conner are going to be there.”

Her eyes had been half closed in a bout of laziness the whole time, but the moment he said their names her lids went wide and her stomach performed what she would describe as the most acrobatic thing she’d every be capable of.

“Um.”

Damian, of course, didn’t hear her small sound of protest. It was kind of hard to hear _anything_ when you hang up the moment you’ve finished speaking. It was classic Damian, and she hadn’t known until now quite how much she’d miss his blunt personality. It was almost as bad as when she found herself missing Tim’s manipulative bullshit.

Yep, there was definitely something wrong with her.

“What the fuck man,” she whispered, bringing her palms up to rub tiredly at her eyes.

She could hardly imagine why they’d want her there if their significant others (which was a whole other issue she didn’t want to think about) where going to be there. She figured that would be fifth wheeling, and that would just be awkward.

But then again, awkward was her middle name so why the hell not. Besides, if she didn’t go she knew Damian would show up at her house and raise some type of hell no one would want to deal with.

She could feel the beginnings of a headache forming, but despite the irritation, she wouldn’t have it any other way. The boys were a fucking mess, but they were a mess she was used to.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Rowan went into the whole situation with one thought: make sure these dweebs haven’t permanently maimed each other and then get the heck out of there because _how dare they try and surround her with people._

But her plan was shot to pieces by curious baby blues and a sharp look from cold black eyes.

She’d been hesitant when she’d seen them all seated together as her Mama drove by to find a good place to drop her off. They were sitting in seats outside the café, and that was a warning right there. Too many people walked by with places like that for her tastes, and so usually if they went out they always sat inside, at booth, and almost always in the corner. Rowan didn’t do high interaction, but it looked like the boys had forgotten that.

Damian had been next to a lithe black haired girl, while Tim sat across from him with a large black haired guy. The only empty seat was damn near between Lian and Conner, and Rowan pierced her lips at the thought of having to sit that close to people she didn’t know.

When her Mama let her off just across the street, she’d had second thoughts for the millionth time. Then her Mama drove off with a smile and a warning to be good and Rowan really didn’t have any choice but to actually go over.

Also there was the fact that Tim had probably already noticed she was there, so she couldn’t walk home without being questioned.

When she finally found herself in front of the table, however, she figured that would have been the better option.

Everyone stood at her arrival, and that was just fucking awkward. The scraping of chairs had her backing up, and when she realized that _everyone_ was taller than her she took yet another step back.

That, of course, made her bump into a passing waiter.

“Crap!”

She started at the guy’s exclamation and she twirled around to mumble out a quick sorry.

The guy, however, still looked a little ticked off and she bit her lip in embarrassment as she watched him walk off.

Then she almost bit _through_ her lip when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She glanced back to see that it was Tim, and then flushed when she realized every damn one of them was looking at her.

She wanted to hit Damian upside the head for having that stupid little smirk of his on display.

She forgot about that impulse, though, when she noticed Lian had a similar haughty look. Somehow seeing it on her face embarrassed her more than it did when Damian was the one being an ass.

"Yo," was all she managed.

Conner seemed friendly enough and he gave her a light smile and a wave. Tim grinned and ruffled her hair, which only served to make her feel all the younger. Damian nodded and sat down, for which she was grateful.

But Lian... Well Lian gave her an unimpressed once over before taking her seat next to Damian and giving him a questioning look. Rowan knew she didn't look like much in her jeans, converse, and button up, but then again Lian herself was wearing nearly the same thing. The only differences were her t shirt and sandals.

The girl probably was wondering why she was even there.

 _'You and me both,_ ' Rowan thought as she tentatively took the only open seat.

She wanted to bring her knees up to her chest and balance, but she didn't think it was something she should do given the situation. Damian and Tim were used to it so they wouldn't care, but Lian and Conner would ask questions.

Conner and Tim followed her lead, and soon they were engulfed in silence. It wasn't comfortable in the least.

"So uh, you and Damian went to school together?" Conner asked, trying to break the tense moment.

"No," Damian answered casually, while Rowan couldn't help but snort. If he had _stayed_ they would have ended up doing so since she had gotten onto Gotham Academy's roster for the next year, but even then she could hardly imagine what it would be like.

Tim, on the other hand, was failing at trying to hide his laugh behind fake coughs.

Lian called him on it.

"What's so funny?"

He simply shook his head and took a sip of the soda he'd evidently ordered before she got there. Now that she thought about it, he or Damian had probably already ordered for her. There was no way in hell she wanted to try and speak at the moment.

She caught his eye and stared at his glass before switching back to his navy depths. Catching her meaning, he set the glass down and nodded towards Damian.

_'So it looks like Damian ordered for me.'_

She gave Tim a small smile in thanks just before she noticed the confused look on Conner's face. She didn't know what to do, so she left it.

"If you two didn't go to school together, how'd you two meet?" Lian asked subsequently.

Rowan turned her attention to her and took note of her somewhat bored expression as she drew her finger around the rim of her glass. For all intense purposes she looked uninterested, but Rowan had heard the sharp edge to the question. She also noticed how the older girl had been referring to Damian and had simply left Tim out of the equation.

She didn't want to answer.

Apparently neither did Damian, because Tim was the first to speak.

"She needed to do something and Damian took me with him to help."

Rowan was willing to bet money on the fact that Tim knew his reply wasn't the answer she was looking for. Even then it was artfully vague and just for a moment, she wondered why he'd phrased it that way.

Then of course Damian took what she realized was actually bait, and went with it.

"I didn't _invite_ you-"

"Yet I went-"

"And you ruined everything-"

Back and forth they went, voices quickly gaining more venom. Rowan simply watched. Tim's ears hadn't reddened in anger yet and Damian's quips weren't quite downright vicious so she knew they were fine. Conner looked about ready to intervene, though.

"Calm down," he tried.

Rowan almost felt sorry for him as he became visibly irritated when he was ignored.

"I did _not-"_

 _"_ -like you always do-"

"Shut up!"

"Like _today-"_

Lian was actually starting to look interested, and Rowan recognized it as someone gearing up for a fight.

"This was your idea Damian!"

"Don't act like you weren't all for it!"

"Well if I had known you were going to be like this-"

"You did!"

As she thought things through, Rowan had to side with Damian on that one. That was the thing with Tim, he _always_ had some semblance ofhow things would go down. He was too much of a planner not to. Whatever this was, he'd seen it coming.

She just wished she knew why.

She was pretty much at the head of the rectangular table while the boys and their dates were on the sides, so she could see both of them pretty well. Though it technically made her the center of focus, she was glad for it at that moment because she was able to see the exact moment Damian clenched his fists and Tim began to gain color.

She figured she should probably do something before they took the whole cafe to the ground, so she grabbed the closest drink and took an ice cube out of it to flick at Tim.

It hit his neck and he jumped, but immediately shut up and glared at her. It was no where near Damian's level of scathing looks so she figured she was fine.

"Cool it," she said quietly.

Conner stared at her in surprise, but Tim actually smiled.

 _'Good,'_ she thought,' _that pun was hilarious.'_

Damian apparently thought it was funny too because she could hear him chuckling from the other side of the table.

He got an ice cube flicked at him too. Unfortunately Lian was the one that caught it.

"If you're going to act like a child and play with your meal, at least have the decency to play with your _own,"_ she snapped. 

Rowan knew she'd gone beet red in 0.2 seconds. The girl had given her a disgusted look, and it effectively made her feel 6 years old rather than her actual 13 years.

All she could do was nod, and watch as a decidedly fake smile graced Lian's pretty face.

"Try and act like a big girl, okay sweetheart?"

Her tone was mocking and suddenly any comfort Rowan had begun to feel was sucked away. Evidently Lian had not been okay with Rowan's inventive end to Tim and Damian's argument.

She glanced up quickly and saw Tim give Lian a disbelieving look before settling on Damian with a glare.

Rowan didn't think that would help.

Really, the only possible way she saw this ending nicely was if they all got up and went their separate ways. That, however, was not something that was going to happen.

No, as she watched Tim openly grasp Conner's hand, she realized exactly what the 'lunch' really was.

She was in the middle of their stupidity. Damian had brought Lian to piss Tim off, and Tim had done the same with Conner. None of it made _any_ sense to her, but then again it was them so maybe it did. Damian was probably just being an asshole, and Tim was probably just being a _manipulative_ asshole. It was just lovely.

She hoped they at least went home and used this as some kind of foreplay so that they weren't hurting each other _for absolutely no reason._

Then she hooked her fingers behind one of her bracelets and began to twist in an effort to calm down and _think_ before the lunch she hadn't actually eaten threatened to come up.

She couldn’t look Conner in the eye, and she prayed that Tim wouldn’t notice. And for reasons that she couldn’t name, Lian's smile burned its way through her skin and she felt as if she' was bleeding from the inside out. 

She looked away and pretended to check her phone. As she stared at her screen she tried not to notice the way Damian was focused on Lian or Tim's face when Conner put his hand on his thigh. 

Their attraction wasn't as strong as it once was, she knew. It was for that very reason that she winced. At the same time, she wondered what Conner was even there for. She knew Lian was in it for the thrill; she was like Damian in that way. Always thriving on other's pain. But Conner? Well, Rowan had no idea why he was playing this game. He didn’t seem like the type to fuck with people’s heads.

And on that thought, she realized that she had no idea why she was there either. She wanted to ask the boys why they needed her in between their little battle of wills. She wanted to call them both idiots, tell them to get over themselves and kiss or something all ready. She knew Damian, at least, wanted to. 

Then something cold and completely unfamiliar flashed to life deep in her gut, and just for a second, she felt like she was going to throw up all over Tim’s scheming face and Lian’s smug little smile. Instead she stood abruptly, eyes anywhere but in front of her. Watching them with anyone but each other hurt her almost as much as she knew it was hurting them, and that had more to do with the fact that she’d spent way too many hours looking at two people who fit too well together to be trying to put up a façade with someone else. No matter how much they clashed, they’d always fallen together. Looking at the ‘couples’ in front of her was like looking at puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit. Tim and Damian had always fought, but this was outright war. 

It wasn’t anger that she was feeling. She didn't know what was wrong, in all honesty. Maybe she was sad, or perhaps disappointed in the stubborn boys. All she knew for sure was that she wasn’t angry, not at them. 

And then suddenly, something clicked and she finally understood. She simply didn't know if she could do it. 

She could be the referee. The one that got between them, the no man's land of their world war. 

She could be the confidant. The open ear to petty problems and hidden hurts. 

But oh, she was starting to realize that there laid her problem. She couldn’t be both. 

She couldn't be both, and now she knew who she was angry at. She was angry at herself. Secrets are meant to stay hidden, but between the three of them, the word 'hidden' was void. 

Damian liked to pick at open wounds too much; Tim liked twisting things so that they went his way. And she, well she just liked to make sure that none of them ended up seriously hurt. And if all of those things required a few given up secrets, well, then that's just the way the story goes. 

"My Gran said she wanted me home by about this time, I'll catch you later."

Her voice wavered and the words felt wrong, yet the lie slipped through her lips easily. She'd never outright lied to either of them about anything before. Rowan held her breathe, waiting for Tim to ask if she was actually okay, or for Damian to tell her that she was shit at fibbing.  Conner glanced up and gave her a small smile, while Lian didn't even bother to acknowledge her. 

No one mentioned that she'd been there for barely 15 minutes.

Rowan swallowed back the acid in her throat and walked away. As she did so, she focused on the scraping sound her chair made as she pushed it in instead of the fact that Tim was the only one that bothered to say goodbye. 

For some reason, the look in his eye, above all else, stuck with her for days.

That look had said ‘I know something you don’t.’ From past experience, she knew that whatever he was thinking would bring her nothing but trouble. She’d never been caught in one of his traps, but she’d heard enough stories to know that fucking with Tim could burn just as bad as Damian. It was just a matter of when it all blew up in her face.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so we’re clear, Tim’s mark from Rowan actually says ‘Hello’ while Damian’s says ‘Hi’
> 
> Sorry, I mess up sometimes.
> 
> Also, remember, these are different POVs, flavored by the person who is telling the story at the time. Ro has her own opinions on things and situations just as Damian and Tim do. Everyone’s biased so if one thing doesn’t match up with something someone did or said in a different chapter, think about the fact that different people tell the story at different times. Everyone interprets everything differently.
> 
> So yeah, I know everyone’s pissed so hopefully this helps. We get Damian’s side of things in the next chapter…

The lunch had been a complete and utter train wreck. He’d gone in with the intention of finally getting a break from the daily grind, and instead he’d managed to work himself up more than ever. Tim had been so used to Rowan’s methods of getting him and Damian to stop tearing at each other that he hadn’t even bothered to factor in the presence of two other people.

On hindsight he knew it had been a very large mistake, but after a month of Damian he needed a breather.

He’d expected the irritation that came with being around the younger boy. The sharp tongue, the grueling sparring matches, hell he’d even tempered himself not to react _too_ strongly to Damian’s insubordination on the field. Despite the hell Damian tried to put everyone through, he got things done.

Sure they were still working on causing the _least_ amount of damage during missions, but Damian wasn’t half as bad on the team as Tim had thought he would be. He was still a handful, though. Damian still had trouble getting along with most of the team since they weren’t accustomed to his abrasive personality.

This, however, wouldn’t last long since Damian pretty much garnered as much wariness as Rose or Lian had, and the team had warmed up to them eventually. Damian already knew Lian, so he wasn’t completely alone when he came. That was one of the things Tim had actually been worried about.

Despite the fact that they were still doing… whatever they were doing, Tim could finally admit that he cared about the stubborn boy. He’d been worried that Damian would end up isolated. Though Rose and Lian weren’t on the top of the list of people he liked around Damian, they weren’t the _worst_ people to keep him company.

Although between the three of them, they were beginning to have a lot more casualties on missions and Tim knew he had to say something soon. Damian knew better, since Bruce had made sure to teach them all to value life. Rose was another story since she had only just recently begun to leave her opponents alive. Lian though, well she was like Damian.

She knew what she was doing was wrong and yet she did it anyway. He had a theory that she took after her mother, Cheshire, than she took after her father, but he couldn’t exactly say that aloud without having Arsenal on his ass.

Rowan had been right in her observation that Lian seemed to bring out the worst in Damian. Since she’d never actually met Lian, she wouldn’t have known that Damian actually brought out the worst in Lian as well. It was a case of being more comfortable in likeminded company. When they were caught in fights together, things seemed to end on a much _bloodier_ note. Rose, at least, had the decency not to take things too far.

Well, at least she did when on the field. At the tower, she’d taken to sneaking into his room even though he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested. Only slightly less startling was the fact that she’d begun to train with Damian. He appreciated it because it meant _he_ didn’t have to take a beating to both his ego and body whenever Damian felt like knocking someone around. On the flip side, he was wary of it because it meant Damian was learning new moves from the Punisher’s daughter.

Damian also seemed to have picked up Rose’s habit of really only being insufferable when at the Tower. Despite the fact that he couldn’t actually get out of costume unless he was alone in his room, Damian still found a way to make every jab he sent at Tim completely personal.

And there were _a lot_ of jabs.

Tim knew Damian was a lot of things. He was violent, opinionated, arrogant, and more than a little rude. Those things were a given, and honestly at this point didn’t bother him too much. Of course he wasn’t exactly at the level of tolerance Rowan seemed to be at, but he was close. It had taken him moving into Titan’s Tower for Tim to realize that Damian’s proclivity for possessiveness and jealousy ran deep, however. Though Tim was closest to Bart and Conner, he got along fairly well with the rest of his team. He loved the family Bruce had given him in Gotham, yes, but there was just so much less complication with his team in San Francisco. Sure they weren’t without problems, but the Titans were nowhere near the level of dysfunction the Bat Family forever found itself stuck in.

So in short, Tim had an ease in San Francisco that he rarely seemed to have back home, and apparently Damian was jealous of that. Whether he was jealous of the familiarity Tim shared with his team or the team’s higher functionality remained to be seen. Either way Damian was resentful, and when he was resentful, he was bitter.

Damian’s possesive streak also fed into his jealousy, and Tim thought it was ridiculous. Damian wouldn’t admit that he could possibly like Tim in any way that wasn’t cool toleration, yet the moment he saw Tim laughing with his friends he had to go and ruin it by starting an argument. Or when he saw Tim with Conner in _any_ way, be it romantic or otherwise, he got pissy and found a way to be an absolute ass.

He’d even taken to being way too public with his… interactions with Lian. Seeing them together made Tim’s stomach turn, and Damian probably knew that.

He knew it, and he used it. Instead of sucking it up and stomping down his pride, he chose to be asinine and petty. Tim, for all of his control, had fallen to Damian’s level and done the same.

On an underlying level, however, Tim realized that Damian’s envy wasn’t the only reason for his behavior. The detective in him wanted to find out exactly what Damian was trying to accomplish by being so stupid, but the brooding teenager in him told him it wasn’t worth it.

For once, he listened to the teenager.

His relationship with Conner, what little was left of it at least, was shallow at best. He’d never had more sex in his life, but it was all empty. That, more than anything, made him feel like an absolute creep because his increased physical actions had more to do with getting Damian back than they did with wanting to be with Conner. He was just so _frustrated_. Conner wasn’t stupid, and he could probably tell that Tim was on a downward spiral but he didn’t call him on it.

So with all that said, Tim knew how he’d ended up possibly damaging whatever he’d had with Rowan. The little show he and Damian had ended up putting on wasn’t _completely_ their fault, but a lot of it actually fell on his shoulders.

Bruce had wanted them home to see how things were going, and Tim had jumped at the chance. Being able to walk around out of uniform was nice enough, but seeing Rowan would give him a much needed breather, despite the fact that there was still a lot he needed to work out with her. Damian was always calmer around her.

But he knew even that would only last for a moment. The mark on the back of his neck undoubtedly belonged to her, but now was _not_ the best time to follow that path. She hadn’t even gotten her marks yet, and on top of that he had no idea how Damian would react. There _was_ a small chance that Damian’s second mark wasn’t Rowan’s, but it was miniscule considering the tiny ‘Hi’ on his shoulder looked to be in the same hand writing as the ‘Hello’ on the back of Tim’s neck. There was a slightly larger chance that Rowan would get only one of them or none at all, but he doubted it.

Rowan was skittish as it was, and if she knew about the two of them, she’d work her nerves into a frenzy. She had little faith in Soul Marks to begin with, and it would take some convincing before she accepted her own. That was something he knew he couldn’t help with, as she would have to do it on by herself.

Despite knowing this, he still needed some type of reassurance.

So he’d invited Conner. Now that he knew what the future had in store for them, he wanted to see how Rowan would react to seeing him with other people. He’d wanted to see if she’d be _jealous._ If she was, then he’d at least have the assurance that getting through to her would be something within his reach. Because in all honesty, Rowan wasn’t as simple as most people believed. She was 13, but he knew how much she had going on in her mind. She’d put a wall between them. She’d break herself down before ever letting anyone build her back up.

He’d catch her though; he and Damian would. There was only the matter of sorting Damian out first. She didn’t need Damian bullshit on top of everything that would happen with her. She didn’t need _his_ either.

His plan, of course, had back fired. Rowan hadn’t been jealous. In fact, she’d been too nervous to do anything more than fidget in her seat. Conner had probably been the best he could have been given the situation. Despite the fact that the romantic aspect of their relationship was all but over, the friendship was still there. That was probably the only reason he’d even gone along with the whole escapade.

Tim knew that Conner’s interests had been leaning more towards Cassie lately, and he was fine with that; they’d be good together. Conner, however, was too nice of a guy to say anything. He knew they were pretty much over, but he didn’t let that affect the comrade they shared. They were quickly entering the level of friendship he had with Bart, and he was grateful for that. He needed more friends he could count on. Sure it was weird that they’d started out as lovers, but there wasn’t anything good in his life that _wasn’t_ weird these days.

It probably could have gone pretty well if it had just been Conner. He could have probably even gotten Rowan to open up around new people a little bit.

Then Damian had found out about it, and had decided he was going to bring Lian with him. He had nothing against the girl, but she was _not_ someone Rowan would get along with.

And she hadn’t. Lian had evidently seen Rowan as someone not worth her time, and had treated her as such. In return, Rowan had clammed up and freaked fifteen minutes in.

He’d been pissed, Damian had been pissed, Conner had seemed sorry, and Lian hadn’t given a shit.

He’d completely ignored Damian since it was his fault for bringing Lian when he knew how she could be, and instead spent the night having a long conversation with Conner. It had felt good finally telling _someone_ what was going on. Conner had apparently guessed what was happening, and was relieved when he was let of the hook. Okay so he hadn’t known _everything,_ but he’d figured out that he had something going on with Damian.

Tim had no idea what Damian had done that night, but he hoped he’d finally dumped Lian for what he was guessing was the fifth time now and moved on to someone who was less of a bitch.

Even if he had, that didn’t help Tim with what he had to do.

When Rowan had left he’d been so caught up in Damian that he hadn’t had a chance to say bye, and he knew he had to apologize for that. He knew he also needed to make sure she knew he hadn’t meant to put her in such a difficult position.

So he called Rowan.

He picked up his phone, and had it ringing within moments. Only, she didn't pick up. With the time difference, he calculated that it was not entirely too late at night for her, but that was for _her_. Of course, there was always the off chance that she had actually begun to take her insomnia medicine regularly, so he left a message. 

Almost as soon as he’d hung up the alarm in the tower went off, and he knew he sighed and tossed his phone on his bed.

He wasn’t able to check for a response  until late at night his time, and when he did it was in the form of a text. His phone displayed one missed call on its screen. 

He'd missed her, and he couldn't quite understand why exactly he was suddenly feeling so... Sad. 

He knew he'd get her next time, but a tiny voice in the back of his mind still made itself known. 

_'Or maybe I won't.'_

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo guys, I know this wasn’t what you were expecting, but it seemed to want to be written so.. Anyway Damian’s chapter is next. But yeah, a POV we haven’t seen yet? I think I crashed and burned on this idk. Tell me what you think? I get nervouse about doing other characters besides Ro, Dami, or Tim.

Bruce was many things: orphan, business man, fighter, hero.

 

Despite his varied attributes, however, he was still getting used to the role of ‘father’. Sure he'd had Dick, Jason, and Tim to help him become accustomed to the job, but it was Damian that made him realize what being a Father truly meant.

 

He'd made many mistakes, some that haunted him in the darkest part of his soul, but through it all he'd learned that there was simply no _right_ way to be a parent. Unlike fighting or running a business, rearing a child couldn't be taught. It had to be _experienced,_ and even then the art could not be perfected.

 

With that said, Bruce still wasn't sure he was doing a good job _._

Sure his eldest son seemed to be doing well, even if he _did_ go through women a little more quickly than seemed proper.

 

His next eldest, Jason was… Still Jason; which basically meant he’d put a bullet through someone recently and was only slightly, subconsciously bothered by it. Being Jason also meant that the young man was most definitely alive and causing hell somewhere. Really, the fact that he was _breathing_ was something that Bruce was thankful for every day.

 

Then there was Tim… And that’s where things got messy because as Tim had grown older, Bruce had stopped being able to figure out what the boy was thinking. And Tim was _always_ thinking, always worrying about something. Bruce got the slight feeling that the chronic worrying was something Tim had picked up from his biological father.

 

He also got the feeling that somewhere between losing his birth Father and making enemies out of a boy two years his junior, he’d stopped worrying about how he was going to live up to the Robin mantle and instead had settled on heavier thoughts.

 

And there lied his issue; he had no idea what was going through Tim’s mind anymore. Even worse was that he didn’t know how to _ask_. When Tim was barely at the cusp of puberty he’d found a broken man and wormed his way into a place Bruce hadn’t even known he’d needed filled. Tim had taken on the weight of a cursed legacy on frail shoulders and had pushed through, just so a man he hardly knew wouldn’t fall from grace.

 

He’d stepped into shoes he knew where too big for a small boy with a quick mind to fill, yet he’d tried his best. He’d tried his best and somehow, Timothy Drake had saved Bruce Wayne from drowning.

 

Bruce had sworn to himself never to let another into his heart for fear of losing them like he’d lost Jason, but Tim had pulled him through. He’d never be able to repay the boy for that, and he knew it. Sure he tried but he simply wasn’t strong enough. He knew Tim felt like nothing more than a replacement, so Bruce had tried his best to show Tim that he was more than that. Only, he wasn’t sure he’d succeeded. All of his sons had their strong points, and the mind was Tim’s. He was strongest in the one place Bruce knew he himself was not. Because of that, Bruce was almost afraid of what he would find if he prodded Tim too hard. The fearsome Batman, the dark knight of Gotham, wasn’t strong enough to support the young man he thought of as a son, and he’d never stopped finding the irony in that.

 

It was just another thing to add to the list of things that kept him up at night, right after ‘raising a boy who quite obviously grew up to have intimacy issues’ and ‘letting my son die a horrible death as a preteen’, but right before ‘fathering a son with a woman who tried to raise him to be a child assassin’. He kept them in chronological order.  

 

With all that said, he also had no idea what was going on with Damian. Unlike with Tim, Bruce had been at a loss with his youngest son from the beginning. The boy had just been so… Cold. He was snarky for sure, but he hadn’t even had the same fiery attitude as Jason. Damian had come to him so closed off, though he had slowly gotten better of the years. Even opening up hadn’t seemed to help with Bruce’s understanding of his youngest son, however.

 

The boy hated most people, argued with the ones he liked, and was far too smart for his own good. Hell, half the time Bruce still had no idea what he was doing and that was _with_ a few years of practice in dealing with the young teen under his belt.

 

For a while he’d tried to keep the boy close to him in an effort to try and un-teach some of the more deadly habits Talia had instilled in him, but even that had limited success. Eventually he’d learn to let Damian go on a longer leash, for lack of a better term. Dick had made him see that all Damian wanted was his approval, and he’d tried to give the boy that, above all else.

 

He’d thought it was working for a while, just letting him do whatever he wanted (within reason of course), but now with two of his sons away… He just didn’t know if he’d made the right choices.

 

The last time they’d come home, instead of the normal banter they’d had with each other, there’d been downright hostility. He hadn’t seen such anger between them since they’d first met, and it worried him.

 

They’d brought their current significant others, and he thought that they were finally, _finally_ get along.

 

But that hadn’t been the case. They’d gone out for hardly more than an hour before they came home and practically confined themselves to their rooms for the duration of their stay. When it was time for them to leave, he’d even asked Conner what had happened.

 

“I think we made their friend cry,” he’d said with a sheepish look and a shrug.

 

The fact that he had no idea who the ‘friend’ in question was unsettled him.

 

He hadn’t been aware they’d _had_ mutual friends. Tim had stopped talking about civilian friends after he’d graduated high school, and Damian hadn’t spoken a word about anyone else save maybe Colin since he’d had a little girl over for Christmas years before. He’d thought Damian had finally found a good friend after that; someone who it seemed could help with his temper. God knew Colin only served as another sparring partner, what with the whole ‘abuse’ persona.

 

Yet after that Christmas, he had mentioned her ever again. He hadn’t mentioned much of anyone; aside from passing comments whenever Bruce brought up any of the younger heroes they crossed paths with.

 

The fact that he couldn’t quite grasp what was happening with his younger sons gnawed at him, yet he hadn’t quite figured out a way to fix it yet. He would have to do what he’d been doing all this time. He would watch over his business by day, fight crime by night, and hope for the best at every second in between.

 

He supposed his one saving grace was the fact that despite the dysfunction of his family, they would all be there help each other. Whether it was Dick, with his cheery attitude, or Jason with his brash approach. Of course Alfred would be there, as he always was. They would help him; truth be told, they already where.

 

So, at the end of a particularly routine night cracking down on Gotham’s ever steady crime scene, Batman shed his cape and became Bruce. He ignored the ache of his body and the steady call for sleep in the back of his mind, and somehow found the nearest bar in his home. He uncorked a crystal bottle of scotch, poured himself a healthy glass, and settled in the soft leather seat he kept for occasions such as these.

 

After taking a long sip of his drink, he closed his eyes and sighed.

 

No, he was not the best father, but he was learning from his mistakes. It was all he knew how to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm.. yeah. I’m not confident with this one… like at all…


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo. Damian's chapter, the long awaited BS you guys have been waiting for. Idk if I hit the mark but I tried... I just haven't been confident with my chapters lately. Anyway about the flower shit in this chapter: I googled stuff until I found what I needed. If it's wrong, please tell me and I can change it.
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> Please review? Mostly I hope you guys enjoy tho.

He doesn't want to admit it. It's not because he's being petty, or stubborn, or even because he hates him; it's because loving the older boy was simply one weakness he couldn't afford. When your entire world is built is built on danger, it pays to be able to think clearly in the field. Wondering what another person's lips taste like when you have a knife coming at your face isn't exactly the best way to fight.         

 

Despite his best efforts, however, Damian's brain never quite got the memo. Instead halfway through a particularly nasty mission he saw Tim get surrounded by a mass of gun toting soldiers, and instead of sticking to the plan and carrying out his part of the mission, he doubled back and proceeded to help Red Robin disarm every person in the vicinity while his ‘partner’ for the mission got beaten half to death because he wasn’t there to break her out of the trap she’d gotten stuck in.

 

He’d gotten an earful for that little stunt, yet he couldn’t bring himself to feel an ounce of regret. The entire team thought he’d helped out Tim in an effort to try and show him up, and Tim himself thought he’d done it because he thought the older boy was incompetent. Both opinions where wrong, but Damian wasn’t about to go and change anyone’s mind.

 

No, after that mess he’d ignored everyone and tried in vain to convince himself that he _did not_ care that much about Tim’s wellbeing. He spent more free time with Lian, sparred more with Rose, and always made sure that on  missions he had a partner that _wasn’t_ Tim.

 

All of that backfired on him. Being with Lian was entertaining for sure, but somehow it couldn’t compare to the hours he’d spent on debates with Tim. Sparring with Rose pushed him because she had a sort of brutality to her fighting style that his usual partners lacked, but he found himself always looking for the underlying strategy in her moves. The various mission partners… Just didn’t work.

 

Damian hated taking orders, and he hated having to look after people even more. He’d take Tim’s well thought out  movements over Lian’s aggression driven ones any day, even though her style did mesh well with his own.

 

So he found himself at a loss. It wasn’t _fair._ He didn’t _want_ Tim. He didn’t want his smart mouth or his mind games or his hero complex or _anything_. Except as the days went by, he was figuring out more and more that he _did._

 

And then they went to visit Rowan, one of the few people in his life that didn’t piss him off these days, and everything went to shit. He hadn’t meant to freak her out, really he hadn’t. He’d just found out that Tim was going to see her and it was just so _normal_ and it made sense and he missed that. He’d missed that, and so he decided that he was going to go.

 

Only, he thought of Tim and everything that the stupid boy incited in him and he just couldn’t imagine everything going back to _normal_. He couldn’t imagine it because that seemed almost too good to be true, and these days Damian wasn’t so sure he deserved good anymore.

 

Tim fought just as hard as he did most days, but he’d always had the distinct edge that marked him as ‘hero’. Damian knew he rode that edge hard, and that would never change. As they’d grown older, Damian had begun to see that he just didn’t have the same type of emotional response to the more volatile things they did that those around him produced. He’d never been ashamed of that until he realized that maybe, probably, that wasn’t something Tim wanted.

 

That probably wasn’t something that was good for Rowan either. The young girl was sickeningly sweet, in all connotations of the word. She was quiet, thoughtful, innocent, and basically everything he wasn’t. He’d been around her for far too long at this point, so he knew she didn’t mind. Truth be told, he didn’t mind either.

 

The fact remained that he still wasn’t the best for either of them, and I not for the most obvious reasons, than simply because no matter how much he tried to be a Wayne, he was still an Al Ghul too. If there was anything he’d learned about that name, it was that it generally brought unhappiness to the innocent.

 

He didn’t want that for his family or his friends, what few of them he’d made. So he’d taken Lian with him on his visit. Lian wasn’t a bad person, not really. She simply knew how to get things done, much like him.

 

He knew that neither Tim nor Rowan liked her, however, and as far as he was concerned that was a bonus. He got to keep his preferred company, while keeping Rowan and Tim at a certain distance. He’d been getting a bad feeling lately, and something told him that he needed to keep them from getting tangled in whatever he had coming. Rowan especially, since she couldn’t exactly protect herself.

 

But in his haste he’d forgotten that most people wouldn’t view Rowan the way he and Tim did. He'd known her for years, and it was hard to remember that she was much more closed off with nearly everyone else. He'd forgotten, and as a result she'd gotten the sharp end of Lian's tongue and hadn't reacted well at all.

 

He'd been pissed, to say the least, and had spent the entire trip back to Titan's Tower angry at Lian and freezing Tim out. He knew the older boy was pissed at him. He knew, and yet the urge to actually go and _apologize_ for ruining a what could have been a perfectly good day surprised him. He never said sorry; never needed to.

 

The urge to apologize, however, was overpowered by something much more potent when Damian finally found himself back in the tower only to have Tim pounding at his door not fifteen minutes later.

 

He wrenched open the door and met Tim's furious glare with one of his own, even though he was sure it lacked the intensity it should have had.

 

"What?" he bit out.

 

Blue eyes spitting fire, Tim shoved a _bouquet_ of all things, into his hands.

 

"If you want to apologize, this is not the way to do it!" Tim said before Damian could even to attempt to analyze why he was holding flowers.

 

Tim didn't wait for an answer before he turned and strode away, saying something about having 'better things to do'. Damian was slightly offended, but the emotion was dampened once he realized that he was holding someone else's flowers since he had most definitely not sent the abomination in his hands.

 

As he studied the flowers more closely, he realized that not only where the flowers indeed addressed to Tim and sent _from_ his name, but they bouquet contained herbs as well. He had only a second to wonder who the hell would send his Soul Mate chives in his name before something clicked in his mind and his blood ran could.

Closing his door carefully, Damian backtracked into his small room and set the flowers carefully on his bed. Being careful not to damage them, he began to pull the individual plants apart and lie them side by side. By the time he was done, he had Black Eyed Susan's, Chives, Chamomile, Dill, Edelweiss, and Violets laying harmlessly on his duvet. The odder herbs had been hidden deep in the wrapping, but had not been hard to find. None of them fit together, yet it made an odd sense to Damian.

 

Once upon a time he'd had lessons on vegetation and their various meanings. It had been a tedious things at the time, learning about the messages one could send with seemingly random plants. Now, however, he was grateful.

 

Chamomile represented patience, Violets stood for loyalty, Chives portrayed power, Edelweiss represented courage, and Black Eyed Susan's spoke of Justice.

 

It was a warning, and together it told him this: I have been waiting for you, and I have need of your power. I only hope you remain loyal and have the courage to help me obtain _my_ justice.

 

The message was clear to him, and the execution was refined. The sophistication in itself told him who the true sender was. The words where those of his Mother; they belonged to Talia. The woman was nothing if not elegantly deadly. He should have been surprised, or angry, or even a combination of the two, but he was not. He was scared.

 

The ill feelings he'd had been experiencing had warned him of this, but he wished she had sent them directly instead of leaving them for Tim. Not only was that a warning for him, but it was also a threat.

 

Years ago his Mother had looked him in the eyes and declared he was to be her enemy. Even at the tender age of ten, however, Damian had known that their relationship was not to end there. Talia Al Ghul was a woman of power, and she always got what she wanted; Damian was like her in that way. He knew his Mother would never let him go so easily, not without a fight.

 

The fight hadn’t come then, and so Damian had waited patiently. He knew he couldn’t be the one to make the first move, not if he wanted to win at least. With the flowers, however, Damian knew he would have to prepare himself. This was Talia’s call to action, and like the dutiful son he was he’d meet her.

 

After all, the one thing he’d forgotten to factor into his wait was the fact as the years went by he’d actually… bonded with those around him. If he wasn’t careful, the people he’d grown to care about would inevitably be dragged into his Mother’s war as well.

 

Of course asking Tim out probably wouldn't help his plan, but it was pretty much the only way he knew how to say sorry while simultaneously satisfying the small part of himself that craved Tim's prescience.

 

The very, very small part of himself that he needed to learn how to kill.

 

As Damian thought about where he was possibly going to take Tim for their date, he knew that it was too late to keep the older boy out of it. Tim was a fighter, just as the rest of their family was. They’d be able to handle it.

 

Rowan, on the other hand, was not. If he wanted to keep her out of the cross fire, he was going to have to face the threat head on. For now, Rowan was just going to have to wait.

 

For now, he'd have to bide his time until his Mother made her move, and try to keep everyone at a distance.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, I just wanted to say that I think Damian, despite his harsh nature, would be the one to take one for the team when it really came down for it. He already thinks he's better than everyone, so it only makes sense for him to think that he can handle the hard stuff better than they could. The little shit.
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> Anyway after this I think you guys have one semi angsty chapter, one sweet chapter, and then I'm gonna fucking punch myself in the face and rip my own heart out for a few chapters after that. Idk how but Yall basically got 19 chapters of intro, prepare to FEEL.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here’s this. I am taking extreme creative liberties with S.T.A.R Labs here, so yeah. I’m taking extreme liberties in general. I hope you all enjoy this. After this one, we’re just one chapter away from Rowan getting her marks… You guys excited???  
> Also… Anyone guess who Lucy is yet? It may or may not be important later...

The irony of Rowan’s first time in what she liked to call a ‘hero’ situation was not lost on her.

Not soon after their friendship had started, and maybe a week after Tim realized that she knew about his and Damian’s secret identities, she received a gift from them. It was the first thing they’d ever given her, and no matter what they did, what they said, she’d always kept it on her. This attachment to the device, of course, had a very good reason.

It was a little thing, really. No bigger than a quarter, and she’d had it for so long now that she hardly even remembered it was on her. The fact that she’d woven a bracelet to hold it to her wrist didn’t help her remember its presence either.

No, she only ever remembered she was wearing the tiny alert system when Damian or Tim caught wind of something big going down in Gotham. Then, and only then, did they send out the signal that made the button turned bracelet vibrate and glow a bright red. That alert meant that she needed to get her ass into gear and head home before she was caught in the newest shit storm Gotham’s slums had coughed up.

Once she was safe at home, she was supposed to press the button to get it to stop. That apparently sent a signal back to the boys that told him she wasn’t out in the midst of whatever was going on. If she couldn’t quite get herself home in time, she was supposed to press the button twice which would send back a distress signal.

So far, she hadn’t had to use the distress signal.

The tiny device had thus far saved her from getting caught in a weird wave of zombies (that she didn’t like to think about), some type of missing street kid scandal (that Damian didn’t like to talk about), a reign of terror from a group of villains Batman had beat down, and numerous other incidents that she, along with most Gotham residents, chose to push to the back of her mind so that she could step out of her home without having a panic attack.

So, it was safe to say that she was pretty damn confident that when she took Lucy to the S.T.A.R. Labs technology unveiling event, everything would turn out fine. The company was one of the few she'd heard of who actively shared their progress with the public. (Not that she'd followed too many companies very closely.) They'd had unveilings before, but Rowan had never gone. Big stuff like that was usually a prime target for Gotham's most notorious to go and make a scene; somewhere she didn't want to be. Past events, however, had been left alone so Rowan had figured that taking her younger friend to see cool science stuff would be fun to do. She’d never had to worry about getting into serious trouble before, so when they walked through the doors she didn’t have much else on her mind other than to make sure Lucy was having a good time.

The girl had aced her history test, and since it was one of her worst subjects, Rowan had thought she deserved a present. Sure taking her to a history museum probably would have been more on subject, but she knew Lucy would be more into S.T.A.R. Labs. The branch in Gotham specialized in weaponry, and much to Rowan's chagrin, that was something Lucy was interested in. In the simplest of terminology, Lucy liked to fuck shit up. Normally Rowan didn't condone Lucy's more violent tendencies, but everyone deserves to be themselves sometimes and the day _was_ for her after all.

Besides, Rowan was sure they wouldn't leave any particularly dangerous technology out and unguarded for heavy handed kids like Lucy to slip into their pockets.

Once they were through security and in the main entry way, Rowan let out a particularly large yawn and shifted a little, trying to stretch her back. The line had been lengthy, and standing for too long always made her back ache. From what she could tell, it was a side effect of being so top heavy.

"Are you bored already?" Lucy asked, obviously having heard the yawn.

Rowan gave the blonde girl a small smile and shook her head.

That brought the grin back to Lucy's face.

"Good! We haven't even seen anything yet."

Rowan couldn't help but grin back at her, happy that she was happy. Getting the tickets had been easy after she'd told her Gran what she'd wanted to do. The woman may have been elderly, but she was every bit the shark she had been when she was in her prime. When Rose wanted something, she locked on and _went for it_. The real issue had been getting her Mama to say yes.

Lucy tended to get a little... Insolent when she was surrounded by too many authoritative figures. When they went out, Rowan always tried to make sure it was just them so that she could try and get a handle on the girl's behavior. Her Mama, of course, hadn't been happy when she'd asked if she could take Lucy by herself, without an adult. Rowan had ended up having to pester her Mama for a week and just be generally unpleasant. The woman had nearly been ready to break her nails on Rowan's behind before she finally gave in and agreed to let them go.

She'd really only relented when Rowan had told her that they'd be stuck in little tour groups, and that the tour guide would have to keep an eye on everyone. At the moment, Rowan was trying to find said tour guide.

There were multiple large flat screen TVs arranged throughout the area, and they each displayed direction on how to find one's tour group. Apparently each ticket had a letter, and the elevators to the left of the room displayed corresponding numbers above the doors. You were supposed to find your elevator and take it to your start point, as every group started in a different place. Rowan and Lucy had group 'A'.

She couldn't spot the correct elevator for the life of her, though.

There were just so many _people._ Now beginning to feel mildly uncomfortable, Rowan grabbed Lucy's hand.

"Hey Luce..." she said softly.

The girl in question, however, simply jumped up and response and pointed into the crowd milling about them.

"I found it!" she said happily.

Rowan followed the direction of the girls finger, and lo and behold the elevator marked 'A' was in her direct line of sight.  Before she could even fully register what was going on, Lucy had tightened her grip and was rushing towards the elevator. Rowan let herself be pulled along and nearly lost her breath trying to say sorry to everyone Lucy shoved out of the way.

By the time they were safely in the elevator Rowan’s cheeks where scarlet from embarrassment and Lucy’s where tinged pink with excitement. Only one of the many buttons in the elevator was lit, and Rowan assumed that the company had put some kind of lock on the others so that everyone ended up where they were supposed to be. She reached out to touch it, but quickly withdrew when a group of three stepped into the elevator, forcing Lucy and Rowan to shuffle back.

Lucy, while of average height for her age, was still was only about the same height as Rowan, which wasn’t saying much considering the nearly 14 year old girl was barely five feet and one inch on a good day.  As a result, neither of them where very intimidating, so when they went out together they had to be careful not to get stepped on. While the observation mostly figurative, there were a few times where they’d been out together in crowds and people had quite literally ended up stepping on their feet simply because they hadn’t noticed the two small girls.

Their diminutive size wasn’t something that normally caused them much trouble for the most part, however. At the moment though, Lucy looked as if she was ready to cut everyone down to her size since they’d pushed her into the corner.

“That was rude,” she muttered, eyebrows furrowed together in anger.

While Rowan did agree, she did not want to get into a fight with what appeared to be two teenaged boys and a slightly older girl. She was still holding Lucy’s hand, so she squeezed it lightly and bumped her shoulder into the blonde’s. When Lucy turned and looked at her, Rowan smiled and shook her head.

Lucy rolled her eyes, but took the hint and settled down. Eventually, after one more person came in and the button was pressed, and they ascended at a steady pace. Before she’d been pushed back, Rowan had seen the glowing words on the only lit button: Top Floor.

There where around 50 floors on the building, and the idea of being at the top made Rowan’s stomach roll. She could do heights, but only in moderation. _50_ freaking floors was pushing it.

Her apprehension only got worse when the elevator finally stopped and they all walked out, Lucy releasing a small squeal when she realized where exactly they were. The outside of the building appeared to be the normal, cookie cutter rectangular glass and steel giant that most corporation buildings seemed to prefer in all aspects accept for one. The thing that set S.T.A.R Labs apart from the more generic buildings in Gotham was the giant spherical structure at the top. Originally Rowan had assumed the thing was decorative, and that the top floor was probably bellow the structure.

When she stepped out of the elevator, she realized that she was wrong, because she was quite obviously now standing inside the ball at the very top of the building. They were all on a platform suspended in the middle of a giant spherical cage like structure that was only about five feet away from the walls. The walls themselves… Where completely clear. She assumed they were glass, but she _hoped_ they were made of something stronger. The slender metal panels that where probably solar panels embedded into the smooth walls gave her hope.

She still didn’t like the fact that she was apparently in a giant glass ball more than fifty feet above the ground. Lucy, however, was delighted.

“This is _so_ cool,” she gasped before pulling a slightly wearier Rowan closer to one of the walls, where it appeared their guide was trying to gather everyone.

The man wore a polo shirt with the S.T.A.R Lab logo on the right side and a name tag that read ‘Arnold’ on the left. His smile was wide, his eyes where bright, and he obviously enjoyed his job. That alone eased Rowan’s nerves because generally things like this where more enjoyable when the person who was supposed to be guiding you actually _wanted_ to do it.

She and Lucy stopped when they were close enough to hear him, but far enough away to be comfortable. His voice seemed to carry in the open space, so that ended up being about three feet.

Once they were settled, Rowan finally let go of Lucy’s hand and texted her Gran and her Mama that everything was okay before settling down to wait for the tour to start. When she let herself breath, she realized just how beautiful their surroundings really where. For once, Gotham was experiencing clear skies and sunlight streamed in through every possible surface. She was nearly blinded by the bright light, of course, but she could still appreciate the beauty.

“You think they’re gonna have any big guns?” Lucy asked eventually.

The younger girl was highly energetic by nature, and she hardly ever sat still and quiet. Even now she was spinning in small circles around Rowan, nearly giving her a headache. The bright light was bad enough, but following her quick movements was giving Rowan a headache.

“Probably,” Rowan muttered, raising her hand to shade her eyes. Being in such direct sun was actually getting kind of hot, and she contemplated taking off her hoodie and just throwing it over her face.

“Ooooh, what about swords?” Lucy asked, still spinning.

Rowan couldn’t help but giggle at the girl’s enthusiasm.

“Probably not.”

Lucy stopped spinning and pouted.

“Why not?”

Rowan was outright grinning now; Lucy was such a weird child.

“Bladed weapons probably aren’t high tech enough for this kind of company. Think a little more science-y.”

Lucy’s face screwed up as she thought for a few moments, and Rowan took the chance to take in the girl’s appearance. Her blonde hair was in pig tails, her nails where bitten down and sloppily painted a bright purple, her t-shirt had a cute skull and bow pattern, her black tights where ripped at the knees from one too many falls, and her favorite pink tutu was still as flawless as the day she’d acquired it. She was a mess and Rowan couldn’t have been happier for her. Rowan adored the smaller girl for the simple fact that she loved what she loved and didn’t give a flying fuck what anyone else thought about it.  Thus far, Rowan hadn’t ever seen Lucy without her favorite type of skirt, no matter how many times other people told her the tutus didn’t go with the rest of her wardrobe. Lucy was weird, and Rowan loved that. She knew Lucy liked her for the same reason.

“Hey Rowan?” Lucy asked after a few more seconds.

“Hm?”

“Ya think they got any poison gasses?”

Rowan thought about it. The company probably did the unveiling more to attract more buyers than to keep a connection with the community, and she seriously doubted they showed off anything truly dangerous. It just wouldn’t be good business. What would be good business, however, was being able to provide the customer with every aspect of the required product, and in this case it was weapons. That meant that if they wanted to stay ahead of the curve, they probably did have some weaponized gases somewhere.

“We probably won’t see them,” she said with a shrug.

Lucy huffed and crossed her arms.

“Well that ain’t any fun.”

Sometimes, Rowan wondered where Lucy got all of her disturbing traits from. Then she ended up thinking about Damian and wondering why it was that she kept surrounding herself with malicious people instead. Then she always ended up deciding that she didn’t really care.

She was just about to ask Lucy if she wanted to go back to the bakery afterwards to get some ice cream when their guide cleared his throat and called their attention. Immediately Lucy’s face lit up, and Rowan could feel a bit of excitement bubbling in her own chest.

“So by now you all have obviously been wondering what exactly we’re standing in,” he started.

There were about 12 people in their group, and maybe half of them replied in some form of agreement.

“Okay then, well let’s get this tour off to an electric start!” he said, a large grin gracing his face.

He pulled out what looked like a small remote from his pocket, and then pointed it at the ceiling and pressed a button. Almost immediately one of the outer rings on the ‘cage’ did one rotation before stopping. She knew they were safe, but she still took a step back, putting her closer to the center of the platform. Whatever they were in was obviously some type of machine, and she wasn’t exactly one hundred percent okay with that.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you are in fact standing in Gotham’s largest electrical generator,” Arnold began from the front of their little group.

Rowan felt her eyes widen at that, and she could hear the gasps of surprise all around her.

 _‘Perfect. I’m fifty stories above ground in an **electrical** death ball,’ _was her first, rather bitter thought.

Okay so she had issues with tall buildings; a lot of people did.

Besides, from the way Lucy was speaking, she figured she wasn’t the only one having thoughts like that.

“That is _so_ cool. I bet we’d all get electrocuted to death if this thing got turned on!” the blonde laughed, now nearly bouncing.

Well, Rowan figured most people weren’t exactly having thoughts like _that,_ but still.

A middle aged lady next to them had apparently heard Lucy, and she turned and gave them both a horrified look. Rowan could do nothing but hide her face behind her hands as Lucy gave the lady a wide, gap toothed smile back.

After letting everyone soak in his previous bit of information, he began speaking again.

“As you may have noticed, from the streets below it may seem that we light this structure once a week, but S.T.A.R Labs has actually been testing this device as a means of powering the company. If all goes as planned, we should be able to completely self-sustain next year by running the generator 24/7. The shell is made of substance that does not conduct electricity, and is much like bullet proof glass.”

Truthfully Rowan hadn’t noticed the building lighting its top like a circus attraction. She spent too much time holed up in her room for that.

Sighing, Rowan fiddled with her phone as the man spoke on, explaining each piece of the device. She was listening, of course, but Rowan often had trouble sitting completely still. She didn’t have ADHD or anything like that, she just always had the urge to twirl a pencil or do some other mundane thing that kept her fingers busy.

For the most part Rowan _did_ find Arnold’s explanation about how the simultaneous rotation of the multiple rings around them created energy interesting, but overall it wasn’t her thing. It appeared it wasn’t Lucy’s thing either because after about five minutes Lucy ended up taking Rowan’s phone to play angry birds. Rowan let it happen without much thought, and simply took off one of the beaded bracelets she’d been wearing to twist between her fingers.

She figured that once they were done with the generator, they’d start moving down floor by floor and there had to be something on the next fifty floors that would catch Lucy’s attention. Rowan figured there had _better_ be if they were to sit through fifty floors worth of explanations. However even if that turned into a flop, Rowan did still hold out hope that Lucy would find some enjoyment in figuring out ways mostly harmless inventions, such as the generator, could be used more brutally. The girl was weird that way.

As Arnold moved on to talking about how the very plat form they were standing on rotated as well, Rowan paid a bit more attention.

“The center piece we are standing on now is the generator’s key piece, and it rotates the fastest. The energy is mostly gathered and contained here, with small amounts being attracted to the metal that keeps the solar panels secured to the shell.”

For once, Lucy leaned into Rowan so that she could whisper in the older girl’s ear.

“We’d be fried in a second then.”

Now mostly relaxed, Rowan simply shook her head and bumped her shoulder against the blonde’s. For a second she considered telling Lucy to bite her tongue so as not to jinx them, but then she shook off any ill feelings and went back to looking at their guide. The light behind him was damn near beginning to burn through her eyeballs, and she knew she was going to have to talk to her Mama about getting those glasses that tinted in the sunlight.

They were expensive, but Rowan was blind without her glasses and she didn’t much like the idea of being blind _with_ them as well just because the sun wanted to be a bitch and not let her see. Besides, her birthday would be soon and she could always tell her Mama that’s what she wanted.

Yawning slightly, Rowan moved her fingers up to the end of the braid she’d chosen to sport that morning. She’d gotten a trim the previous week, and the newly cut strands curled loosely around her fingertips. Her Mama had been talking about putting her hair in box braids lately, and Rowan had been contemplating letting her do it.

_‘Maybe if I get braids Mama can put some metal beads and-‘_

Rowan didn’t get to finish her thought because every bit of consciousness she had was immediately drawn to the smooth sound of oiled metal turning against oiled metal. Her eyes immediately went to the metal around them and her breath caught as she saw the rings around her beginning to turn.

She wouldn’t have been so worried about that had Arnold made any move to use his remote. Hell, she’d have felt better if the man had even _mentioned_ anything about starting up the machine.

But no, to her horror their guide looked as startled as she felt. If anything, he was even _more_ freaked out than the rest of them. She had a hunch that it was because he knew exactly what would happen to them if the generator was fully started with _them in it._

“Last time I went to the bank with my Aunt all the windows melted and the bank got robbed. It was weird, and this is weird. I bet we’re gonna get robbed,” Lucy whispered into Rowan’s ear.

Knowing Gotham, Rowan couldn’t actually disagree so she shrugged instead. She _hoped_ that wasn’t what was going on, however. If this was some villain’s attempt at robbing S.T.A.R. Labs, Rowan was never going to take Lucy anywhere ever again. She wasn’t even going to take _herself_ anywhere ever again. She just wasn’t going to leave the house. Yes, staying above the bakery where she had ice cream and no imminent death sounded pretty nice right about then.

An uneasy murmur began to rise up from the group and like the good tour guide he was, Arnold raised his arms and tried to calm the crowd.

“Everything is fine, but we should all probably head over to the elevators.”

Rowan thought getting out of there was a damn good idea, but of course that wasn’t what happened.

The previously still platform began to shift and all around her people screamed as the reality of the situation sunk in: they were all trapped in a soon to be rotating electrical conductor. Now Rowan had heard some weird shit; that came with the territory of being friends with a couple of super heroes. However, hearing about something and experiencing it where two _very_ different things.

So for a moment, just a moment, Rowan was completely still as everyone screamed and ran around her. Lucy wrapped both of her arms around one of Rowan’s in fear because as much as she loved danger, even she probably knew some serious stuff was about to go down. In a way, Rowan was almost numb because she just _couldn’t believe_ that she was caught up in such stupid shit without a parent around. If they survived this, not only was her Mama going to keep her under lock and key, but Lucy’s aunt was probably going to kick her ass. Being locked up and maimed by an angry guardian wasn’t exactly at the top of the list of things Rowan was okay with.

Then again, neither was dying at 13.

Then the platform reached an angle that simply would not allow anyone to stand any longer and Lucy screamed in Rowan’s ear as they both lost their footing and began to slide closer to the nearest wall. After that, Rowan was completely done.

The bowed beams of metal around them where much thicker up  close, and Rowan and Lucy where _just_ lucky enough to be able to brace before they hit the still slowly rotating rings and subsequently fell through the gap to the curved shell below.

Rowan didn’t have time to even think about the pain that shot up her side after hit said beam, or even the added pain of landing on the same side once she hit the shell because Lucy was still latched onto her and they were sliding _again_. This time, they were finally heading to the bottom of the horrible ball. People where still screaming, and Rowan could now hear the machine’s buzzing as it charged and it was safe to say that even though she managed to have enough sense to grasp onto one of metal catches that that broke the wall’s perfect surface and probably where holding something together, she was still _terrified._

Her throat constricted and her heart began to quicken its normally steady pace and she gripped Lucy back with everything she had because they had hit the wall and _it was most definitely glass_. Rowan wanted to scream right along with everyone else, but even in the state she was in she knew it wouldn’t have done her any good.

Instead, she tried her best to ignore the fact that she, along with the rest of the tour group, had fallen through the conductor bit of the generator and onto its much thinner glass shell. She didn’t give a _damn_ how bulletproof the shit was supposed to be, it could still be broken and she did _not_ want to experience falling fifty stories to the ground and becoming a Rowan puddle.

She couldn’t however, ignore the fact that they were much too close to a metal panel for her liking. With the generator’s inner cage spinning in front of them, Rowan couldn’t risk slipping and touching one of the bars. As the rotations sped up, she could possibly end up losing a limb that way. As she thought about it, she figured that was probably the whole point of starting the generator with people in it. Well that, and fucking electrocuting them.

It was a lovely thought.

Taking a deep, steadying breathe, Rowan turned to Lucy.

“You okay?” she managed to squeak out.

Instead of answering, Lucy reached out and fully wrapped her arms around her. For a second, Rowan thought that Lucy was shaking and so she tightened her grip on the smaller girl.

Rowan then realized that _she_ was actually the one who was trembling when Lucy squeezed her tighter in return and shook her head ‘no’.

“Are _you_ okay?” Lucy asked, blue eyes wide with fear.

Rowan knew her expression was similar.

“No,” she whispered back.

And then because she was tired, like always, and because she was full of so much consuming _fear_ for both her and her friend, she managed to not notice the fully grown man that had begun to slide towards them.

“Look out!” was all Rowan managed to hear before she was hit with around two hundred pounds of a sliding man and consequently knocked out.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

She awoke to the feeling of strong arms around her, and immediately tried to jerk away. Images of shining domes and spinning beams assaulted her amidst a suddenly raging headache, and her eyes shot open only to be met with blurry images.

“It’s okay! You’re safe!” a feminine voice assured her.

Rowan had never really been comfortable around anyone, however, and so she did not, in fact, feel safe. The fact that her glasses had apparently fallen off at some point, her head was pounding, and she had no idea where Lucy was didn’t help.

Her heart was once again pounding, only this time it seemed to be matching the rhythm of her _head._ The feeling was intense and seemed to center around a spot at the back of her head, very near the top. She lifted her fingers and gently prodded it, groaning when the tissue proved to be extremely tender.

“Hold on, I’m trying to get you to an EMT,” the voice said again.

Mind still cloudy, Rowan tried to focus on that voice and for the first time realized that the person holding her was running. Not only that, but all around them sirens blared and voices begged to be heard.

The trek to the nearest EMT was short, and due to her unfortunate far sightedness, Rowan wasn’t actually able to see who had taken her from wherever she’d ended up until they were quite a ways away.

She saw a black cape and shockingly scarlet hair.

“Batwoman,” she managed to breath, even as doctors rushed around her to do god knows what.

Secretly, her mind supplied her with information she wasn’t supposed to know, but did thanks to two little birds.

_‘Barbara.’_

Then, limbs heavy and mind tired, she blacked out.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

She gained consciousness hours later, in the hospital with her Gran and Mama by her bed side. She felt fine, and was informed that she had simply managed to hit her head pretty hard by an obviously overworked doctor. Poor woman probably needed a break from Gotham. Most people did.

“Okay but if she’s fine why’d she black out _twice_ ,” her Mama asked, probably still worried half to death.

The tired doctor answered back quickly before leaving.

“The first was from the original hit, the second was from exhaustion. Her records say she has insomnia, and that does not help the healing process. Have her take her prescribed sleeping pills regularly for a week, and take her in for a checkup after that. She’ll be fine Ms. Chase.”

Rowan’s Mama looked ready to go after the other woman, but stopped when Rowan spoke up.

“What happened? Where’s Lucy?”

The words were spoken hoarsely, making Rowan realize just has dry her throat felt.

Her Gran smiled softly and handed her a much needed plastic cup filled with water. After she downed that, Rose gave her granddaughter yet another cup, and Rowan considered dedicating a whole new religion to the woman. She was obviously a goddess in disguise.

After her Mama started speaking, Rowan considered dedicating a religion to her too. She hit every point all while gathering their stuff so they could leave.

“You guys where all trapped up there as a diversion for some bastard who was trying to get at their weapons. The guy only managed to get as far as the fourth floor before Batwoman and Batgirl caught wind of it. They apparently didn’t even need Batman because they had it handled pretty quickly. God, I didn’t even know you were in trouble until the hospital called me and said they had my daughter in one of their beds,” she paused to rub at teary eyes before continuing, and Rowan felt horrible,” I called Regina and she said Lucy was fine because my baby had kept such a tight grip on her, and that she’d taken her home to settle down. That’s what we’re gonna do now, baby girl. God, I can’t believe this happened.”

Rowan was just glad Lucy was safe with her aunt Regina, and all she wanted to do was go _home._

“Here, love,” her Gran said as she handed over Rowan’s phone.

Quite frankly she was surprised the thing had survived all that, and her Gran smiled softly at her expression.

“Lucy slipped it into her pocket when you two fell,” she gave as an explination.

Rowan simply nodded, and thanked whatever had been watching over her phone. They were surely some brilliant being of goodness.

She doubled thanked them when her Mama informed her that her bag, while pretty messed up, had stayed on her body because of its messenger style. Her snacks had died a horrible death, but her other stuff had been fine.

When she had managed to get out of bed on throw on the clean basketball shorts and t shirt her Gran gave her, she willingly took the elderly woman’s hand and leaned into her Mama’s side as they walked out.

All in all, Rowan was damn glad it hadn’t turned out worse.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When she got home that night, after a long movie marathon with her Gran and Mama to provide much needed family time, Rowan curled up in her bed with her phone and prepared to read something. Like most nights, she couldn't seem to find it in her to actually sleep.

Not that she even wanted to. She had the feeling that if she went to sleep without something to occupy her mind, all she’d dream of was being shocked to death and falling thousands of feet. Or maybe not, she didn’t really want to find out.

When her screen lit up, she noticed that it had been on silent and she'd actually received a text from Damian. Her eyebrows rose when she read it.

'Sorry.'

It was simple, with no explanation, yet Rowan knew exactly what it was for. Damian rarely said sorry, and so she accepted it without fuss. It was the best she was going to get, and truth be told she'd pushed the whole 'lunch incident' as she'd dubbed it, to the back of her mind. Holding grudges had never appealed to her, and she didn't need another thing to make her anxious.

'Its cool' she texted back.

She hadn't expected him to reply at all, let alone for him to do so within the next few seconds. She blinked, and didn't even try to question it. Damian was Damian, and that meant he was slab near unpredictable.

'How was your day?'

It was yet another simple text, but it sent her stomach rolling.

'Fine' she typed, yet she hesitated to hit send.

It wasn't a lie, everything had turned out fine in the end. She didn't know why exactly she felt she shouldn't tell him about being trapped in a giant hamster ball more than fifty stories above the streets of Gotham. It was just a gut feeling.

After a few more moments of hesitation, she followed her gut and hit send. Then, instead of finding a book or fanficton like she'd originally intended, she thought harder about why she didn't want tell her best friend that she may have almost died.

She actually hoped he wouldn't respond, but then her phone vibrated in her hands.

'What'd you do?'

She sucked her lip into her mouth and tasted the mint from the chocolate she'd eaten earlier. She didn't usually go for mint, but it was her Mama's favorite so they'd all had some.

'I took Lucy out 4 passing her history test'

'As a reward?'

'Yeah'

She hadn't had such a steady stream of texting with Damian in a while, and she realized how much she'd missed it, inane as it was.

'What'd you do?'

Rowan bit the inside of her lip. She knew why she didn't want to tell him now: he'd be mad at her for not using her panic button.

But she'd been _too panicked_ to do so. She'd frozen, and then invested all of her thought in making sure she and Lucy didn't hit something too hard during the sphere's rotations. Besides, neither of the only two people who could get the signal where even in Gotham. What would be the point? What could they have done? She knew she'd done the right thing, yet she still didn't want to tell Damian.

'We went and saw some stuff. I'm gonna sleep. Nite.'

It was vague and not really a lie.

'You're tired?'

It was 1 am and even with the time difference Damian probably knew that. She almost never went to sleep until 3, at the earliest. Damian probably had one of his already finely arched brows raised.

'Yeah' she replied.

It was the truth too. She _was_ tired. But she was always tired, so that wasn't new. The only difference between any other night was that instead of staying up until her body and mind finally granted her reprieve, she decided to do something she rarely did: she was going to take her sleeping pills. The stuff she had was prescribed by a doctor because over the counter pills gave her nightmares, but even the prescribed shit gave her headaches. That was why she rarely took them, and was so particular about the natural sleep she _did_ get.

'Well goodnight then.'

After reading Damian's last text, Rowan sighed and let her head fall back into her pillow.

No, the irony of not needing the stupid alarm until they ones who would respond to it where gone was not lost on her, but its meaning was.

After all, no one ever really wanted to acknowledge when they were growing apart from someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im not used to writing scenes like this, and I hope I did a good job :/ Yall get fluff next, so yeah. Anyway, just know they will get better. It’s just going to take a while… Mostly I’m mixing stories, plots, and ideas. I own some Batman and Robin fics and I use them for reference every now and again, but mostly I just use little bits of DC knowledge that I’ve accumulated. So this isn’t set in one specific universe. Think of it as a blend of my awkward mind.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I originally had a rather sweet chapter planned before this with Damian and Tim, but I didn’t like the flow of it and it just wasn’t coming out great. Because of that, I decided to just skip it and finally get onto to some of the important stuff. Yall are probably gonna come after me for this, but trust me when I say we’ve got a little more to work through before we can move onto what I like to call ‘a new arc’.  
> Also I start school next Wednesday, so I am going to do the smart thing and grind out as many chapters as I can until then, and post each one as I get it done instead of saving them and spreading them out because a) I have no patience and I like when I can read as much of a story as possible, and b) I’m a slut for reviews.  
> I’m not sure how consistent my writing will be this incoming school year because like the smart person I am I fucking tripled my course load :,)  
> Know that I will try, though.

Rowan, despite what most people seemed to think, was very self-aware. She knew her clothing choices were iffy at best. She knew that she happened to be leaning towards the wrong side of the socially acceptable body spectrum. She knew that her hair was just a little too wild. She knew that sharpie stained fingers weren’t exactly attractive. She knew that she was short. She knew that her interests were odd at best. She knew she was very shy.

She also knew that her clothes were comfortable. She knew that she’d never eat less because food was awesome. She knew that her hair was a force of nature. She knew that she loved to sketch. She knew that being short didn’t do anything but make up one more aspect of who she was. She knew that her interests made her happy. And she also knew that as shy as she was, she was also very attentive.

It was because of this attentiveness that Rowan prided herself on being able to take a hint.

So when Tim started calling her back less and less, Rowan stopped calling at all. And when his emails stopped coming so frequently, Rowan took the hint and left him alone. He was Red Robin after all, the guy got busy. Now that he had Damian to deal with, he was probably twice as swamped.

And when Damian stopped calling too, well she understood. When his responses to her texts started coming slower, and he stopped answering at all, she got the hint. He was Robin, he got busy too. Besides, dealing with Tim was probably a lesson in impulse control for him. (Which is to say, he had to learn what impulse control was.)

She steadily ignored the feeling in her stomach that is most definitely _not_ hurt. She also ignored what couldn’t _possibly_ be worry.

After all, she had a hand in their lack of communication as well. She hadn’t wanted Damian to find out about the situation with Lucy for one simple reason: when he finally started calling her again, she didn’t want it to be because he felt he had to make sure she wasn’t killing herself on a daily basis. She wanted to be able to talk to him about the latest movie she’d seen without him barking at her about her safety. So, for the most part she’d avoided his curious texts and phone calls until about a month after the incident. By then, however, she’d seen the mistake she’d made.

The feeling that absolutely was _not_ worry thickened, but Rowan always had been able to move through her feelings. (Well, at least the unfamiliar ones.)

However, when Gran started hacking like a veteran smoker, Rowan allowed herself the luxury of emotion. (She did not admit that it was a welcome distraction.)

Her Gran, stubborn as she was, refused to go the hospital. This, of course, only gave Rowan more cause to put her observation skills to good use. She watched her Gran like a hawk for the next few months, and it pained her to say that she had a front row seat to a horror show.

Rowan observed, though not without various interjections, as her Gran’s coughs became worse. The woman who’d she’d always counted on as a beacon of strength seemed to waste away. Though not in spirit, she certainly seemed to be lacking strength of body. As the weeks wore on, her headaches became far more frequent. She seemed to lose energy far more easily. And, to Rowan’s growing worry, weight seemed to melt off of her. As this happened, Rowan practically begged her Gran to get checked out almost weakly. She, of course, insisted she was fine. When it came to stubbornness, she was nearly as bad as Damian.

Despite her stress clouded mind, Rowan still had a vague notion of what was going on. Her Gran, when given the chance, could get into specific moods. Moods where she forgot to eat as much. Forgot to turn on the heater to keep away the cold. These moods usually occurred around specific dates. Dates like her Grandfather’s birthday, and her Gran’s anniversary.

Rowan hated those moods. Luckily, they were few and far between.

Yet despite despising her Gran’s dour attitude, she could do nothing but observe. Rowan watched, and as she did, the sick feeling she’d been fostering for months seemed to grow. She desperately wanted to tell someone. To talk to someone, and have them tell her everything was going to be okay. But unfortunately for her, the only people she trusted enough to spill her innermost thoughts to were currently unavailable. And that was okay, because everyone needed a little bit of space sometimes.

So instead, she held it in. She sucked it all back, and tried to be strong. She went to school, and kept her grades up. To keep herself occupied, it seemed she’d resorted to sketching more than ever. Word got around that she’d draw on skateboard decks, and suddenly she had people paying her to do designs. The money was nice, but she did it more for feeling she got whenever someone complimented her scribbles. Also she needed some way to pay for her sharpies since her suppliers were unavailable at the moment.

She could admit that she’d never been good at paying attention to certain things even though she caught others, and as a result the days seemed to slip by almost in a blur. Tim was usually the one who paid attention to the dates, wanting to keep things in order. He wasn’t there anymore, and so she simply… Didn’t care. If she needed to keep track of something time sensitive, she’d put a reminder in her phone and that would take care of the issue.

Every now and again, she’d get a random text from Damian, or an email from Tim. She’d tell them about her day, or whatever else they’d enquired about. But for the most part, the world moved on.

For the past few days, Rowan had begun to dread coming home. Always one to adore her family, the feeling was a new and unwelcome one. Yet it was there. So whenever she could, she stayed after school. She usually ended up sitting outside her school gate, doing a design for someone. Today, however, she’d told her Gran she’d work behind the counter.

As she walked, she took in her surroundings. It was a Tuesday, so the streets were pretty busy. It was familiar, yet… Not. She was so used to walking with Damian, or with Tim when he was in town. More recently she’d gotten used to getting rides from Damian since he was finally old enough to drive. Or more accurately, he was finally old enough to get a license. She had to give it to the guy; he was extremely well learned for a 16 year old. Tim wasn’t exactly stupid either, though.

They were well trained in martial arts, technology, and business. Not to mention that they could speak multiple languages. Hell, she remembered the time when she’d asked Damian to say something in every language he knew and-

And now she was getting looks from the people around her as she stood still in the middle of the sidewalk, hands gripping her bag like a lifeline as her entire body shook. She could feel the tears that were suddenly trying to gather in her eyes. She took a deep, calming breath before she began walking towards her Gran’s shop at double her usual speed. She needed a distraction.

She practically rammed herself into the door, hardly noticing the bell above her ring in signal of her presence. To her chagrin, she could already hear the skeleton raddling coughs that she knew had to be from her Gran. At the moment, there was no one in the shop. That probably had something to do with the fact that her Gran was sick and behind the counter.

Rowan looked around for the source of the sound, and was confused to find that her Gran was nowhere in sight. However, her cough was still sounding, and it was coming from behind the partition. Suddenly she could feel her heart in her throat. She dropped her bag, and jumped over the counter, not wanting to waste any time.

Her Gran was lying on her side; hand over her mouth even as coughs wracking her body. As if that wasn’t alarming enough, there was blood on the floor. Rowan dropped to her knees besides the woman, phone in her hand and 911 already dialed.

“911, what is your emergency?”

Rowan’s throat was dry, but she managed to force the words out.

“My Gran, she c-c-collapsed. P-please, we n-need an ambulance.”

The person on the line asked for the address, and Rowan managed to rattle it off even as her chest constricted. The woman assured that help was on the way, and then the line went dead. Rowan let her phone drop, and moved to wrap her arms around the woman.

“Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay, please be okay…”

Rowan repeated the words over and over again, and they became her mantra as seconds turned into minutes, and then finally, _finally_ the ambulance was there. She was pushed away abruptly and suddenly she was being asked questions and she was giving answers and then she was sitting in a hard gray chair in a place that was way to sterile and her Mama was sitting next to her and then what could have been seconds or hours or minutes went by and suddenly there was a doctor in front of them speaking. His mouth was moving but Rowan was so lost and she didn’t understand, so in what must have been the first time in hours because her throat was dry and her voice cracked form disuse, she spoke.

“Is my Gran okay?” and she added the ‘my’ in because Gran was _hers_ and as much as she loved her Mama, and Tim, and Damian, Gran was the only person who never ever _ever_ did anything out of place. And she just knew the elderly woman wasn’t about to start now.

The man in front of her had pity in his eyes, and suddenly Rowan despised him.

“Darling, I’m afraid that your Grandmother is just a little bit hurt.”

Darling was a diminutive, something meant to pacify. It made her want to punch him in the face, and for the first time she knew how Damian most likely felt all the time.

“What do you mean by hurt?”

And this time, it was her Mama who spoke.

“Baby, Gran broke her hip trying to carry a tray of pastries. On top of that, she’s malnourished.”

And all of a sudden even the warmth of her own mother couldn’t warm the cold feeling that had settled over her.

“Can we see her?” Rowan’s voice was small, barely a whisper.

The doctor nodded, and Rowan and her Mama got up and followed him to a room that was far too plain for someone like her Gran. In the center of the room there was a plain white bed, and in that bed there was Rowan’s Gran, hooked up to machine’s and wires. Rowan felt her Mama’s arms around her tighten, and she heard a sniffle. She looked to see tears streaming down the woman’s face, effectively ruining what used to be flawless makeup.

Between her Gran in a hospital bed and her Mama’s crying face, Rowan was at a loss as to where to look. Finally, she decided on her Gran, who was at least smiling. Gently removing her Mama’s arms, Rowan turned and gave her a kiss on the cheek before walking to her Gran’s side.

Once there, Rowan let her Gran grab her hand, entwining their fingers. Looking down at her Gran and seeing her so sick did odd things to Rowan. It gave her feelings she couldn’t describe.

She couldn’t breathe.

The melancholy gazes of the doctor and her Mama were suffocating, and she had to get away. She had to. She jerked abruptly, breaking her Gran’s hold and forcing the doctor back. Before either one of them could say anything, Rowan was running down the hall. To her left, there was the familiar sign indicating a bathroom, and she immediately wrenched it open, locking it behind her.

It was a single room with no stalls. There was only a toilet to her left, a garbage can to her right, and a small mirror and sink in front of her. Paused as she was, she was directly in front of the mirror, and her reflection stared back at her with bloodshot eyes. She took a deep breathe, and tried to calm herself. She would be okay. Gran would be okay. Gran was strong, she would be up and bustling around-

Rowan didn’t even have time to finish her mental pep talk before she was interrupted by a searing pain on her rib cage and lower stomach. She fell to the ground and whimpered. She only wondered what the hell was going on for a second before she knew.

She was getting her Soul Mark. She’d spent so much time worrying about her Gran and passing her days just trying to distract herself that she’d fucking _forgot_ her own birthday. The situation almost had her laughing through her pain.

 When it was over, Rowan sat up and against the wall with a gasp, and grabbed at the areas. Realizing that she’d somehow managed to shove her phone back into her pocket in the midst of all the chaos, she pulled it out and checked the time.

12:03 am. Rowan closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. The process had taken three solid minutes. Yet in the aftermath of her Gran being hurt, she could care less about the stupid letters at the moment. She figured she might as well find out what her words said now, however. Carefully, so as to not agitate her still tender skin, Rowan unzipped her jacket, and pulled up her uniform shirt. And then she froze.

She had two marks. And not only that, but… No, it couldn’t be. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Now frantic, she bunched her shirt above her boobs and lifted them to get a better look at the mark curving under her breasts. A jumble of letters followed the curve of her bust. Certain letters where a bold red to create one specific sentence while the rest remained black, and for all intense purposes it looked like a word search.

“What….” she couldn’t believe it, she had to be wrong. She let go of her breasts, and moved to pull her waistband down to get a better look at her other mark. She had a pretty good idea of what she’d find though. She wanted to laugh and scream and cry all at once. The fucking mark was right above her crotch, a reverse tramp stamp if you will. But this one, well this one was different than the one under her breasts. The lines where harsh and the coloring made it look like a scar. She could almost, _almost_ tell herself that it wasn’t what, _who_ she thought it was. But, truth be told, she only knew one person arrogant enough to have a mark _there_ of all places.

Groaning, Rowan released her clothes, and let her head fall back hard against the tiled restroom wall. Her Gran was sick and broken in a hospital bed, it was her 14th birthday, and her fucking Soul Mates….

_‘Oh god.’_ She thought as tears began to well in her eyes. She roughly scrubbed her face. She would not let herself cry. Just imagining how her Mama would react if she knew made her queasy because she honestly had _no idea_ how the woman would respond.

She needed someone to talk to, she needed…

She knew it was pointless, but she picked up her phone and called Tim anyway. She just wanted to hear a friendly voice. Someone who wasn’t overcome with sadness. She needed reassurance. She just needed to hear one of them say something, anything. Even if it was just ‘I can’t talk right now.’

It went to voicemail. She called him again. He didn’t pick up. She sucked in a ragged breath, and dialed Damian.

One ring.

_‘Please pick up._

Two rings.

_‘Please’_

Three

_‘Just this one time.’_

Four

“Hello?”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she choked on everything she had to say. She knew that voice, and it wasn’t Damian’s. She could feel her fingers beginning to twitch and tingle and that was a bad, bad sign.

“Lian?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, who the hell is this?”

The harshness of her tone grated on Rowan’s already frazzled nerves, and she was embarrassed that it made her want to cry all the more.

“It’s Rowan… Is… Is Damian there?”

She wanted to hang up. Her heart was beating too fast. She should hang up. Damian didn’t have time for he-

“Damian’s a bit-”

There was a distinctly _male_ groan. She could feel her hand shaking. Her entire body really.

“-busy at the moment.”

He didn’t need her bothering him. She was just his childhood friend. He was growing up, making new friends. He didn’t need her, nor did Tim. She was weak, and plain, and boring, and-

“I’ll tell him you called, okay Rowan?” her tone was sultry, and as she spoke Rowan could hear more sounds of pleasure.

Then there was rustling in the back ground.

“Hello? Rowan, why are you calling?” Damian’s voice was lower than she was used to. It made her feel weird, and she didn’t like it at all.

She was interrupting. He didn’t need her. She should leave him alone. She should go back to her Gran. Her Gran needed her. Oh _god_ her Gran. She tried to take in a breath, but it was like she was breathing through cotton.

There was acid rising in her throat, and she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t stop the sob from leaving her mouth if her life depended on it. She hurt. Everything hurt. There was a blackness swirling within her. A void. She’d been feeding for weeks and now it was consuming her. There was so much pain, and denial, and rejection, and it was so, _so_ stupid and she’d get over it in the morning but right now, everything just _hurt._

“Rowan, are you _cry_ -“

She hung up. She was pathetic. They were strong. They were amazing. They were bonified motherfucking _heroes_. They didn’t need someone like her.

She dropped her phone.

It wasn’t fair. Despite what had happened with her Mama and her Father, Rowan had foolishly hoped that she had at least a _chance_ at being happy. She’d been a fool to think that. It was her birthday and she had her Soul Marks but she was afraid losing her Gran, even if it was just her stupid hip, and truth be told, she’d lost Tim and Damian the moment they _both_ left for Titan Tower. Perhaps she’d never had them in the first place.

She felt young and stupid and weak and she hated it. In the morning, she knew she’d pull herself together and everything would be okay. For now, however, her stomach was swirling and her body was shaking and she couldn’t breathe and she hadn’t felt like this since she was eight and she caught her Father leaving their house to go back to _his_ home in the middle of the night for the _sixth seventh eighth ninth tenth_ time. But most of all she hated the world. Tears still pouring down her face, Rowan moved over to the toilet and proceeded to empty the contents of her stomach.

She hated the world and she hated herself and for the first time since she met her boys ( _NotHersNotHersNotHers)_ she thought of asking her Mama for the insomnia meds she hadn’t actually taken in years. She usually just stayed up and read but _God_ , for once all she wanted to do was slip into a rejuvenating darkness and _get away._

Vaguely she reprimanded herself for relying so much on other people to keep her sane, but then she remembered that she was the only one who could get between a blue eyed boy with control issues and a green eyed menace with homicidal tendencies and come out unscathed. ( _Usually_ ) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway, remember, they are all pretty young, even if Tim is 17/18 already. I’ve never met anyone thus far who was perfectly stable at 13/14, so just remember that. We all have things that we feel insecure about. We’re going onto some hard times for the next say… Two chapters for what I have planned; I think the kids will kind of need it. Just know that I’ve already got future chapters written with some more fluff…. It’s just a matter of how far out I have to write until I can fit them in. Stick with me guys, and please review!  
> Also I cried a little while I wrote this it kind of hurt


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :’)

He still didn’t like the idea of being so attached to Tim. He wanted to remain impartial, because impartial kept you alive, but his body didn’t listen. Instead, somewhere along the way it decided that it wanted to become completely infatuated with Timothy Drake, and he hated it.

 

Yes, he admitted he liked Tim, but further thought told him that liking Tim wouldn’t be good for anyone.

 

Really, the only reason he acknowledges such a ridiculous thing is, as most of his emotional responses seem to be, because of one of his friends. Those that he deemed worthy enough to be in his company unknowingly had his favor because whether they knew it or not, they were his. Friends and family where not something he had in an overabundance, so he protected and gave a bit of leeway to those who were close to him.

 

Tim got away with picking at him in ways that would leave others with a broken back, Dick called him names that anyone else would have been punched in the face for, Colin could bring out the typical teenage boy in him and get him to waste time on a basketball court, Jason’s brash manor gained him respect instead of irritation, and Rowan often times saw the softer parts of himself that he’d almost forgotten existed.

 

In the end, however, it was Rowan, like most times, that made him examine the emotional aspect of his being.

 

She was fragile, he knew that and it irked him, even if he couldn’t understand why beyond his normal aversion to weaklings. Over the years, however, he’d learned to be a little more careful with her just because he’d never been inclined to see her break. She was his friend, and even his mother had taught him not to break important things. He classified important things as weapons, technology, friends, and family.

 

So he was careful with her. He knew not to say certain things to her, he knew not to pry. She did the same for him, so it was only common courtesy to return the favor. Rowan was tactile by nature, so he made sure to keep his strength in check when he was around her.

 

Despite these adjustments, however, he’d still managed to fuck up. Basic fundamentals told him that every action produced a reaction, yet he still managed to somehow forget that.

 

He’d known Tim was no longer with Conner. He’d known, and yet seeing the two together had ignited a heat within him that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with anger. He’d sworn to himself that he hadn’t been jealous. (Except he was.)

 

He’d wanted to beat Conner to a pulp for even daring to be so close to Tim. He’d wanted to start a fight with Tim just to take him away from the other boy. He’d _wanted wanted wanted-_

 

He’d made his way to Lian’s room instead. She was as straightforward as he was, so when he’d come through her door, hands already pulling his shirt off, she’d went with it. She went with it, and he let his anger drown in lust for someone he did( _n’t really)_ want.

 

The fact of the matter was that he hadn’t wanted to analyze what he was feeling. He hadn’t wanted that anger, the feeling of rejection, the _jealousy._ He hadn’t wanted it and so he let himself get lost in the one person that made sense to him anymore, because in a way, she reminded him of himself.

 

Smart, efficient, and strong.

 

He had her face down and ass up by the time he realized that this was probably the better outcome of things. His mother was coming, and the idea of losing Tim amidst her storm terrified him. It would be better if the older boy hated him, if he stayed away.

 

Damian knew what people used to say about him, and sometimes still did. He was an emotionless monster, a homicidal maniac. He had no morals, no empathy. Someone as good as Tim didn't deserve him, He deserved someone who wouldn't go and fuck another person in a murderous rage every time they had a misunderstanding. (And this is what this was. He was touching another person and he could see now that okay, _maybe_ he’d been jealous and Tim really didn’t deserve this. Even if he didn’t know and they technically weren’t together.)

 

Tim deserved someone _good._ Damian was anything but.

 

Lian's mouth was wrapped tight around his cock and her sharp nails where digging into his thighs when his phone rung. He didn't know what time it was for sure, but he knew it was into the late evening hours. Whoever was calling probably had something important to say if they were willing to do it at that hour, but Damian couldn't find it in him to care.

 

He didn't get angry when Lian answered, however, and simply let her tell the person on the other side of the line that he was busy. When she wrapped one slender hand around his dick and squeezed lightly in emphasis, however, he let out a groan that broke his silence.

 

He was numb to almost everything at that point, and was only willing to let the hazy pleasure penetrate his ever growing emotional walls.

 

Then Lian uttered one name and Damian knew he had to take the phone.

 

Even in his desensitized state, he wouldn't allow Rowan to be turned away by _Lian_ of all people. He'd missed the young girl’s calls too often lately, and turning her away himself was at least the courteousness she deserved.

 

Sure, she'd been acting odd lately and he'd been meaning to look into her off behavior, but it was only after she hung up did he finally snap at of his stupor and realize what an absolute fool he'd been.

 

If he’d miss stepped, then this was surely his consequence.

 

It was in that moment that he realized that even if he was a shit person, breaking off ties wasn't his decision to make alone. Even he couldn't predict the effect his actions would have on people in every single situation.

 

It wasn't the fact that Rowan had barely said a word before hanging up that made him realize this. No, it was the fact that she'd been _crying_ that made him realize how bad he'd fucked up.

 

Because the thing was that Rowan never really cried. He’d given her more bruises than either of them could count over the years, he’d dropped her multiple times. Hell, he’d even fallen on her once and accidently dislocated her shoulder (He still refused for take fault for that. She was the one who decided he needed to learn how to use the dishwasher without telling him that adding too much soap would make it overflow). _That_ had been an eye opener for him, but even then she hadn’t cried. Her eyes watered sure, and she screamed bloody murder when her shoulder had popped out of socket, but he’d _never_ seen her cry.

 

Except right then she’d apparently been crying so hard that she was choking on her tears, and that sent a shock of cold through his body quicker than anything he’d ever felt.

 

He pushed Lian off of him without a word and immediately went to drag on his clothes.

 

“What the hell?” she asked, still naked and slicked with sweat.

 

He ignored her because at the moment, she was nowhere near his priority.

 

He was out of her room and on his way to Tim’s before she was even off of her knees.

 

The tower was large, but he still made it to Tim’s room in a matter of minutes.

 

He didn’t bother to be quiet when he knocked, and so the quick, heavy thumps rang through the hall for all to hear.

 

He didn’t care. He’d never been good at handling Rowan when she got too low. For all his talents, handling a miserable young girl was not one of them. All he could offer was his presence, and while he knew she appreciated it, he couldn’t exactly go find her at the moment. So he did the next best thing.

 

“Damian _why_ are you being so unnecessarily-“

 

He shoved his phone into Tim’s hands.

 

“Rowan just called me crying and then hung up.”

 

Any anger on Tim’s face melted and he redialed Rowan. Damian watched with bated breath, still standing in the hallway, as the phone rang. Tim was better with words, and that was a fact. If anyone could get Rowan to talk, it was him.

 

Only, she didn’t answer. Tim redialed again and caught Damian’s gaze.

 

“Did she say anything?”

 

Damian was about to reply when his entire night decided to go to shit. Any words he would have said where drowned out by the tower alarm.

 

If he would have stopped to think, he would have realized that maybe going out to fight so agitated wasn’t the best idea. As always, however, he simply let his instinct guide him. If Rowan was in serious trouble, she’d use her panic button.

 

They could find out what was wrong later.

 

 _‘We’ll fix it then,’_ was what he used to calm his scattered mind.

 

For once in his life, Damian felt completely and utterly overwhelmed. Usually he prided himself on his prowess in any given situation, but in the midst of his apparent feelings for Tim, the situation with Rowan, and the morons who decided they wanted to blow up the Bay Bridge, Damian found himself being pulled under by one too many conflicting feelings.

 

Not for the first time, he wondered if giving in and simply taking what was his would be worth it. He wondered if Tim was worth it.

 

He wondered, and then he decided that yes, the older boy probably was worth every bit of emotional turmoil the moment he realized what was truly going on. 

 

Even as confused as he was with himself, Damian was able to keep his tactical prowess straight on the field. The training with his Mother had given him that instinct, just as it had given him the knowledge required to realize that the impromptu mission they'd fallen into was nothing more than a ruse.

 

Now usually Tim would have picked up on that fact too, simply because he had one of the sharpest minds Damian had ever come in contact with, besides his own of course. The advantage that Damian had, however, was the fact that he'd spent the first ten years of his life with his Mother, and so he knew when a plan was unraveling that had her specific flare.

 

That, and the fact that they were halfway through the city when the team was bombarded with what where obviously his Mother's soldiers, and then subsequently separated. It was in that moment that Damian cursed every god he could think of because even if he didn't believe in them, they all had to hate him in order to allow his Mother to finally call him out on the one night he probably needed to sort through the mess his relationships where becoming.

 

Rowan probably would have laughed her quiet, mischievous little laugh and said something about karma being a bitch. For once, he would have agreed.

 

 _“Anyone know who the hell these guys are?"_ Wonder Girl shouted through her communicator not ten minutes into the battle, when they were all thoroughly engaged in their own fights scattered throughout the city.

 

Damian, of course knew, and when he tossed a black clad man through the nearest shop window, he wondered if the Red Robin had figured it out as well.

 

Red Robin's reply of _"Working on it!"_  answered his question well enough.

 

In the beginning, when Batman had been forced to deal directly with his Mother in order to obtain guardianship of him, almost no one in the Bat Family had gotten the pleasure of coming into contact with Talia Al Ghul. Batman had made sure of that, and with good reason. The League of Assassins weren't exactly a band of garden variety criminals. Most were trained similarly to Damian, even if they weren't given as much attention and extra sessions.

 

Damian figured that the Titans where figuring that out well enough for themselves when he caught sight of a blast of dark energy a few miles away from him.

 

' _That would be Raven,’_ he thought absentmindedly when he'd use his Katana to make a clean slice through the nearest soldiers Achilles.

 

The man let out a scream when he went down, and Damian only smirked in response as he sprung up from the crouch he'd fallen into, only to catch another man across the throat. _Technically_ if he was taken to the hospital within the next few minutes, he'd live a perfectly healthy, albeit silent life. As far as Damian was concerned, that was still well in compliance with Batman's rules.

 

Besides, if his Mother wanted to speak to him, which he was sure she did, she could come and get him herself.

 

 _"I'm at the bridge and it's halfway gone, I'm not sure what happened yet but there are more bad guys out this way. I have no idea where they're coming from but if we leave them too long I think they're gonna sink the other half, and there are still a massive amount of people on it. I could really use some help guys,"_ Superboy chimed in.

 

He heard the entire team report their locations and response times until it was Tim's turn, and his heart skipped a beat.

 

 _"I'm at Pier 39. Taking into account the amount of assailants I've got around me and the danger level, I don't think I could get there for another thirty minutes at least. More importantly guys,"_ his voice cracked, and Damian would have made fun of him for it at any other time,” _I think- I think we may need to call Batman in for this one. Robin what do you think?"_

Something had to be wrong over in Tim's area for him to have figured that out, and Damian went on autopilot as he barreled his way through crowds in order to try and get to Pier 39 from his location. He had maybe six people on his tail, but the only one he paid any attention to was the one who decided it would be a good idea to try and flip over his head and grab him.

 

Damian caught him by the collar and used his entire body weight to slam him face first into the concrete of the roof they happened to be on.

 

His gloves where stained red after that.

 

 _"Robin?"_ Red Robin enquired again.

 

Damian only thought for a minute, and had this happened six years ago maybe his answer would have been different, but as it was he'd learned something that he was beginning to finally understand: trust.

 

"Signal everyone," he started," this is the League of Assassins and we'll need them all."

 

It was excessive, maybe, but he knew his Mother, and he knew his family. If he could help it, he didn't want to lose either .

 

He heard Superboy halfway ask who the League of Assassins where before his communicator abruptly cut off, and began again with a much smoother voice speaking.

 

_"To your left, my son."_

He did not question how she'd gotten on the extremely secure communication network. He didn’t need to.

 

Instead, Damian wanted to laugh because even after six years of no contact, his body still pivoted in the appropriate direction before she'd even finished speaking.

 

He didn't laugh, however. Instead, he pushed himself even harder and in the next few seconds he found himself standing in a garden atop a tall building overlooking the city.

 

The soldiers landed lightly behind him and where dismissed with a flick of an elegant, golden bangle encased wrist. They were off after rigidly respectful bows, and then Damian Wayne was standing _almost_ alone with Talia Al Ghul.

 

He did not dismiss the tall cloaked figure standing beside her, but he simply kept watch out of the corner of his eye as he observed the woman who provided half of his DNA.

 

Long ebony locks sat in soft waves upon bronzed shoulders, and cat like green eyes so like his own stared back at him framed by elegantly arched brows. Her lips where painted a vibrant red, and twisted into a smile that portrayed warmth and pride.

 

"Look how you've grown!" she exclaimed, walking towards him with outstretched arms and measured steps.

 

Her company stayed put even as she strode confidently forward on her four inch heels. There was a manner about her that told Damian she was going slowly in order to gage his reaction, and he silently applauded her on that.

 

He took a quick breath, squared his shoulders, and took a step back.

 

"What do you want, Mother?"

 

She stopped, dropping her arms and letting her expression fall into a calculating smirk that was far more natural.

 

"What? A mother can't come and see her beautiful son simply because she misses him?"

 

"Tt. You sent me a warning. This is no sentimental visit."

 

She laughed, and the soft tinkling sound made his muscles tighten where it once would have soothed him.

 

"Oh? You saw the flowers I left for your lovely boyfriend?"

 

He knew this woman; his Mother. He would not play her games. His only assurance here was that she knew Tim as someone he was romantically interested in, and not as his Soul Mate. If she did, she would certainly point it out in order to taunt him. It would have been the smart move, at least.

 

"They were a warning and a question. Your answer is no. Now leave."

 

The smirk remained, but her blood red nails settled on her left hip and Damian took note of the form fitting dress. His mother was not prepared to fight, which meant she expected that she would not have to. Damian assumed that the large figure behind her was to be her shield for the day.

 

"Damian, you are an Al Ghul and this is no way to treat your Mother."

 

He bared his teeth as a sharp jolt of rage tore through him. That, of all things, proved what she said to be true, but he ignored it.

 

"I am a Wayne, and I will remain so. Cease your word play, Mother. I will not waste my time on your nonsense."

 

 _'I will not waste my time on your pretty words, on your false maternal warmth. I will not be used again. I will not waste my time on you,'_ he told himself.

 

She finally took the hint.

 

"You would deny your birth right?"

 

She meant as head of _her_ empire, he knew.

 

"No," he replied truthfully.

 

He had his own. He had the Batman lineage, the Wayne fortune. He would build upon _that_ and make his own way. _That_ would be his birth right.

 

She misinterpreted his reply.

 

"So then you will fight with me."

 

"No," he said again, only this time stepping towards the woman who sought to build an empire on the bones of the people his Father swore to protect.

 

"I will not join you, Mother. I will not fight for you; I will not be your tool. You will not use me."

 

He wanted her to deny his claim. He wanted her to say that he was wrong, that she loved him.

 

In the back of his mind, the tail end of a conversation he'd had some years before came back to him.

 

 

_'Do you think people can do bad things to other people and still love them?_

_I think that sometimes, they can't help it.'_

"So be it," she told him, voice now cold as ice," I'd hoped you'd come to your senses, but even so I was prepared for this outcome."

 

She waved forward the large being behind her, and Damian caught sight of bandages around an angular face.

 

"Damian, meet your brother."

 

Any words he could have said died on his tongue to be replaced with two simple ones.

 

" _Excuse me?_ "

 

She laughed, and he his fists clenched.

 

"Well, he's a clone really. You didn't think you were the only one did you? Where did you think I got those organs to replace your damaged ones the last time?"

 

Damian tried to even his breathing because really, this was his _Mother_ and he shouldn't have been shocked, he shouldn't have been hurt.

 

"You cloned me?"

 

She rolled her eyes and brought a slender hand up to rest on the large mans bandaged covered cheek.

 

"Weren't you listening? A few years in mixed company and you've already lost your basic skills, how frightful. I suppose this may be why you've refused me. I'd hopped your years with the Batman would have taught you some important lessons, but it seemed to have done nothing but destroy your values. That is of no consequence, however. You see, I've given this young man here the name Heretic. Lovely, isn't it? He's quite the fighter. Dare I say he may even be better than you."

 

She paused for a moment, and simply gazed at him, arms moving to fold demurely at her chest.

 

"Are you sure of your choice? I'd even be willing to spare your friends and... Lover, for a while."

 

That was a direct threat to Tim, and that he would not stand for.

 

"I will never be your pawn."

 

"Pity," she intoned.

 

Damian had just enough time to duck a heavy swing at his head before he was leaping off the building.

 

He _had_ to get to Tim before his Mother could. He'd told himself in the beginning that he would not let those close to him be dragged into his mess. He would see to that, no matter what.

 

The moments leading up to him reaching Pier 39 where a blur, but the moment he saw Tim everything came into sharp focus. 

 

“Robin!” Tim shouted the moment he caught sight of him.

 

Damian was loath to say it, but as much as he despised the very idea of the Heretic, he had to admit that the clone was a sufficient fighter.

 

He had to be in order to have blocked Damian’s sword and twisted it out of his grasp, all in the time it took for him to acknowledge Tim’s call. (He would never admit that he had been distracted.)

Damian saw the blade coming, saw the shiny glint of his own katana moving swiftly through the air. In that split second, he knew he couldn't avoid it. He also knew that a mere few feet away, Tim was being overwhelmed by just a few too many soldiers. The older boy was injured badly, and Damian knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer in such a state. He knew, and it utterly terrified him.

 

He would not let that happen.

 

In the span of one breath, Damian left his body completely unprotected, reached up, and jammed a perfectly sharpened kunai into the Heretics throat.... All while moving so that when his own blade impaled him, it would not hit his heart.

 

The Heretic went down with a wet gurgling sound, and Damian felt a deep sense of satisfaction welling up inside him. He knew Tim would die someday, but today would not be that day.

 

 _'No,'_  Damian thought as he calmly pulled his short sword from his own abdomen, _'I will not let my Soul Mate die because of me.'_

 

The blade was stained crimson and Damian decided that it was rather beautiful, in the way that morbid things sometimes where. He then decided that the way it sliced cleanly through the Heretics neck in the next second was much more captivating.

 

He did not have time to study his work, however, because before he knew it he was being surrounded by the men who had previously been attacking Tim. He whipped his head around and caught sight of Red Robin on the ground, and his previously sluggish heart beat sped up, for just a second. Then he sunk back into the blissful adrenalin of fighting.

 

Moving quickly, he ducked the swing of the soldier in front of him, only to catch the one behind him in the chest with an outstretched leg. Now that some space had been opened up around him, Damian moved back the moment the soldier went down and tightened his grip on his katana.

 

His father had taught him that killing was wrong, that all life was precious, but in that moment Damian couldn't heed his teachings. He may have respected the fact that his Father did not condone killing, but his Mother had taught him the value of ending a life in order to completely eliminate the threat to your own. 

 

His Mother's way held more logic, while his Father's bled compassion.

 

He had lived by both, though they conflicted. He favored logic, but to stay by his Father's side he'd learned compassion; he'd even seen its value. He'd done his best to join his Father in _his_ fight.

 

But this was not Batman's battle, this was Talia Al Ghul's, and so Damian would act accordingly.

 

The spray of blood doused his mask and tinted his vision a startling red. He thought it fitting considering the rage that thrummed through every part of his body.

                                                                                                                                                                                         

He knew that one of his own arteries had been hit because the moment he pulled his blade from the last soldiers body, he felt his own limbs going numb. Now that his opponent had been defeated, his adrenalin was leaving him and he was beginning to feel the startling coolness that came with blood loss. Though his body was superior and he could lose more than was normal for an average human, even he had a limit.

 

As he fell back onto the hard pavement, he managed to lock gazes with his fallen comrade. Though his vision was still a hazy red, he could still make out the sharp blue of Tim's eyes. Someone had taken off his mask. He blinked blearily, and noticed that Tim's lips had begun moving.

 

He thought it curious that the other male was obviously talking, yet he could hear nothing. Despite this, he was not worried. Tim was trying to reach out, and that combined with his moving lips told Damian something he'd fought not to acknowledge as something that would be so important to him: Tim was alive.

 

He was alive, and if Damian could, he found that he would have reached out and grasped the other boy's hand.

 

Instead, he simply stared on as his bleary vision worsened until the sight of his Soul Mate was blocked by a classy pair of slightly scuffed high heels. The sight set off warning bells in his mind, and the anger he'd felt previously tried in vain to rear up again. Despite this, he could not quite recall why a pair of woman's shoes would inspire such a response, and instead wished they would move so that he could continue his visual perusal of Tim.

 

The person in front of him crouched, and he barely felt a hand grasp his arm. He frowned at the touch, and then felt nothing as darkness enclosed his peripherals and he let out one final breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried again. I know this wasn't what you guys expected or probably wanted, but yeah. Please don’t come at me with pitchforks… Next Up is Ro I think... Tim will probably make an appearance as well. (Also I really appreciate all the review literally they give me the strength to keep going. I can’t believe I’ve gone over 80,000 words, nor can I believe that I have 52 reviews! Please, keep them coming they feed me.)
> 
> Also I’m not sure about Damian’s characterization here; it feels a bit shaky to me. Anyway I start school the day after tomorrow, so my summer is quickly coming to an end. I really wish I would have written more :/ Hopefully I can power through the next…. Meh one or two chapters? Idk this part is coming out longer than I expected. Anyway I have some future chapters mostly written, so there’s that. Man, I never expected to invest so much in a soul sucking arrangement of words, lol. This story truly is my baby, and I’m extremely appreciative to all who enjoy it!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So school started and I got homework on the first day :’)  
> Anyway I’m surprised I finished this tonight, and I know it’s probably not what you guys wanted, but as with most things it’s just how it turned out. :p Once again, thank you for the lovely reviews! I’m almost at 60 and that’s over halfway to my goal of 100! If I can get 100 by the time I’m done with this fic, I think I’ll die happy lol.

The oxygen felt like knives in her throat when she took her first breath the next morning, and her head was absolutely pounding.  That, more than anything, told her just how dehydrated she was. A little water would have probably done a world of good for her, but she did not get up.

She didn’t need to open her crusted over eyes to know that she was in her bed, nor did she need to question how she got there.  All she cared about was the fact that she was buried under her covers in her own room, phone once again in her pocket, and blessedly alone.

She didn’t think she’d be able to handle any questions at the moment, though she knew they would come.

No, when she turned over and stretched out her tired limbs, the only thought in her mind was to rub the sleep and remnants of tears out of her eyes and check her phone, as was her morning ritual no matter what. Her school updates, fanfiction information, manga updates, and various other pastimes all had alerts sent to her email.

She wanted to at least experience that normality considering how odd her life had been trying to get in the past few days.

Sighing, she pried open her eyes and wiggled out of her jeans, trying to get away from the smothering heat they provided. She loved her jeans, but even she wouldn’t prefer to sleep in them.

She reached out and patted her dresser, smiling softly when she found her glasses in their usual place. Her Mama had probably gotten her situated in her room, and Rowan considered making her a strawberry cheesecake in thanks. Well, that and she was pretty sure her Mama’s favorite dessert would keep her from asking questions about why exactly Rowan had fallen asleep in a hospital bathroom.

In an effort to distract herself from the mess she’d made of herself the night before, Rowan unlocked her phone… And promptly failed. She had the usual notifications on her email, but there were also quite a few missed calls than usual. She had a hunch on who they were from, and the knowledge made her stomach roll.

She closed her still tired eyes and tried to quell the feeling, still not quite used to being so apprehensive at the thought of the two very different boys. She hated it, and in a split decision decided that she was going to do what she did best: ignore the hell out of it.

She hadn’t been able to do it the night before, but with a little sleep and a much clearer mind she was, as she’d expected, able to pull everything together. Her Gran would be okay, people grew apart, Soul Marks where not defining and she would not let petty feelings consume her. She would not be that person. She couldn’t be.

Teeth digging into her bottom lip, Rowan finally opened up her messages. There were three missed calls, but only one actual message, and she pressed play with the thought that maybe, probably everything would be fine. She expected Damian to have said something like ‘Pick up your phone’ or ‘I don’t have time to waste on this idiotic game’.

Instead, she got the tell end of something she probably wasn’t supposed to hear.

 _“-she say anything?”_   Tim questioned.

Rowan let the words tumble through her mind, but completely blanked when she heard the sirens interrupt in the background. She knew what that meant, she knew they where being sent on a mission.

She knew, and the knowledge did not sit well with her, _at all._

Knowing they spent the majority of their time risking their lives was one thing, hearing the call to action was another.

Sitting up, Rowan stared down at her phone and played the message one more time.

Then she deleted it, got up, and walked to her kitchen.

 _‘This is some stupid shit,’_ she thought to herself.

She wouldn’t be that person.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

When she hadn’t received any more calls after a few days, she thinks nothing of it. She couldn’t, not when she’d missed their calls before. People forget, and she was no exception. There had been many times when her Mama had asked her to run errands on her way home from school and she’d forgotten, or her Gran had asked her to balance the books for the shop and do inventory and she’d found herself vegging out to Saturday morning cartoons instead.

Events where forgotten, people got distracted, and that was fine. ( _Or maybe she was just turning into a liar._ )

When Tim found her on her way home from school, however, Rowan began to think that maybe being _busy_ wasn’t exactly why they’d been growing apart. ( _A small part of her rejoiced.)_

Gotham Academy was in what she liked to call ‘the rich part of Gotham’ even though all that really meant was that the people there got robbed a little more often more than everyone else. Well that, and they had nicer streets and shops.

It was about a 45 minute walk because Rose’s Sweet Treats was located pretty much in the center of the city, so she didn’t mind it too much. Her Mama wasn’t exactly happy with having her walk through the city alone, but Rowan knew how not to get jumped in seedy alleys. That was probably one of the first things she’d learned by trekking around with Damian. Don’t get jumped and hide in these places if you think you can’t avoid getting jumped.

She almost ran for one of the hidey holes Damian had showed her when she felt a hand on her shoulder when she was waiting for a light to change at an intersection. She immediately yanked out her headphones and whipped around, only to calm and settle into confusion when she saw a familiar face.

“Tim?” she asked softly.

He didn’t smile; in fact he almost seemed to be staring right through her.

“Uh…”

She’d wanted to say ‘why are you here’ or ‘are you okay’ and maybe something along the lines of ‘I missed you’, but ‘Uh’ was all that had come out.

“Hey Rowan,” he said after at least two changes of the lights, three nosy pedestrians, and a pigeon that didn’t know the meaning of personal space.

“Hey,” she said back, because that was the absolute best response.

“I, um.”

For once, Tim appeared to be having trouble with his words and she had no idea what do with that.

She had a feeling that he had a specific reason for finding her, that there was something he wanted to tell her… but that was overshadowed by something else. She saw uncertainty in his tired blue eyes for sure, but there was something else as well. There was the hint of the haughty flare he tried to hide, that ‘I know something you don’t’. Getting that look had always irked her, and that feeling remained, but still, there was something that she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Then again, with him, there was always something that she didn’t understand.

"What-" she started, interrupting herself by sucking her bottom lip harshly between her teeth.

The words may not have been voiced, but they flowed through her mind none the less.

_'What do you **think** you know?'_

She knew that there was something. It was in the way that he catered to her; how he kept his back to the road, almost so she couldn’t get away. It was in the way he talked; though he hadn’t said much at all. The way that he breathed. Hell, it was in his very _being._ Tim just had that way about him.

She knew the game. She'd seen him play it. She'd even silently praised his ability to do whatever it took to get what he wanted. She just never thought he'd play it with _her._

Out of everything, though, she was more angry with the fact that she should've known.

She was also angry at the fact that she had no idea how to play back. Which is why in the end, she took one glance around see the continuous flow of life around her, and she crumbled. People have never been her strong suite, and all she wanted to do is get away from them.  Even Tim.

Once, she would have wedged herself into Tim's space and stolen his strength. Now? Well, now she took one look at the blue eyed boy, just so he could see the rising panic in her eyes, and then, on the next light, she crossed the street and left.

And maybe she was over reacting, maybe she was just a mess, but out of everything he could have known, it was the fact that he was her soul mate that she was sure he had hidden behind those blue, blue eyes. Only, she wasn’t sure if that's a good thing because Tim had a habit of cracking through shells to gather his secrets, and her fragile cover was all she had left. Well, that and him and Damian. But at the moment, he was coming at her... And Damian?

She had no idea what he was doing.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

She regretted leaving him behind when she got home. She missed him. ( _She refused to let herself cry. Crying was stupid.)_

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

She really only started to worry a week after her semi interrogation with Tim.

Because her Gran had needed someone to work her shifts after her stint in the hospital, and because her Mama had to work other jobs, Rowan had managed to get Tatianna hired part time at the shop. Technically speaking _she_ was the one filling in her Gran's usual job baking, while Tati took her job at the counter. Rowan wasn't exactly sure if she was allowed to be producing the shop's product at 14, but no one noticed and she didn't really care.

Making treats was something she was good at, and it helped calm her to a certain degree. Her Gran knew that, and so she didn't put up much of a fight when Rowan stepped in to start the pastries and cakes that would fill the shelves of Rose's Sweet Treats. She had to make what she could between 6 pm and 11, then get up at 3 am and be done and ready for school by 8 in order to get it all done, but it wasn't like she was sleeping in the first place.

After she left for school the young man who took the morning shift came in and set everything up, then opened the shop at 10. Once Rowan and Tatianna were let out of their respective schools, they made their way to the shop and usually ended up doing homework in between serving customers. Rowan usually had most of her homework done beforehand, however, and was always able to whip up fresh, smaller batches of whatever she thought needed to be replaced before closing.

It was a smooth running operation, and Rowan enjoyed being able to see her friend every day since Tatianna also worked full shifts on the weekends.

It was such a weekend when Rowan found herself with far too many questions and not enough answers.

"Enjoy your treat," Tatianna told their latest customer, hurriedly making her way to her _own_ treat as the man walked away.

Rowan couldn't help but giggle as the other girl dug into her pecan salted caramel ice cream.

"And you say _I'm_ bad."

Tatianna stopped eating just long enough to point her spoon at Rowan.

"You make double batches of chocolate almond ice cream just to make sure that there's enough for the customers even with you eating off it all day."

Okay, so maybe she had a point.

"Gran really shouldn't have told us we could do freebies."

Tatianna snorted.

"I'm not gonna be the one to tell her that."

Rowan turned her gaze to the door as someone walked through.

"Same," she murmured, taking Tatianna's ice cream so she could go greet the guy at the counter.

He was a young red headed lanky kid, but he had the sort of boyish charm that had Tatianna putting what Rowan liked to call her 'phone book smile'. So far, no guy had ever been able to escape it without giving her their number. 

"Our special today is a blueberry and white chocolate cookie bar. What can I get you?"

Rowan contemplated eating Tati's ice cream, and then nearly dropped it.

Her head shot up to stare only to catch Tatiana looking at her with her eyebrows raised. The ginger kid had said her name.

“ _Que_?” Tati asked, reverting back to her preferred language in her confusion.

No one asked for Rowan, ever.

“Rowan?,” the kid started,” I’m not sure what his last name is but a friend of mine talked about him working here.”

Rowan didn’t know what was more wrong with that sentence: the fact that he thought she was a dude, or the fact that someone he was friends with knew where she worked.

Tatianna finally turned and waved Rowan over. Frowning, Rowan gripped Tatianna’s quickly melting ice cream tighter and shuffled over.

“This _girl_ is Rowan,” Tatianna said snappishly, crossing her arms.

Rowan felt her cheeks heat and she stared at the ice cream in her hands.

“Oh, sorry,” the teen said,” he never mentioned you were a girl. Mostly he just complained, but then he complained about everything so I didn’t think about it much.”

Rowan’s eyes went wide and she lifted her gaze to meet the boy’s eyes because, _wow,_ it was so obvious who he was now.

“Colin?”

He brightened significantly, a little of the awkwardness they were all probably feeling starting to melt off of him.

“Yeah! Hey, I was wondering if you knew where Damian was?”

Rowan’s mind didn’t even try to process that.

“Where…He is?”

“Yeah, I mean I haven’t heard from him in a couple weeks and when I call it goes straight to voicemail. I’ve got a basketball tournament out in SanFrancisco next week and I was going to see if he wanted to come.”

Rowan focused less on his words and more on the fact that that she apparently wasn’t the only Damian was having communication problems with.

“I..” she didn’t know what to tell him, because she truly had no idea.

“I guess you could call Tim or go to his house if you really want…” she said as a last ditch effort.

He frowned and shook his head.

“I already tried that, Tim didn’t answer either and Alfred just said Damian was out somewhere in Europe or something.”

Rowan squeezed the ice cream container tighter, and it almost squished out onto her fingers. She didn’t really care. Her gaze unfocused and she wasn’t really looking at much of anything as thoughts flew through her mind.

“Sorry,” she murmmered.

“It’s cool, thanks,” he said, and with one last smile he was gone.

“You okay?” Tatianna asked when Rowan didn’t move.

Rowan swallowed thickly and loosened her grip on the ice cream.

“Yeah.”

_‘No.’_

“You sure?”

Rowan glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and gave her a small smile.

“Of course I’m okay. I think I’m gonna go make a fresh batch of angel cake, though.”

_‘I’m scared.’_

She handed Tatianna her soupy ice cream and made her way to the kitchen.

She'd known Tim was hiding something for the simple reason that he'd gone after her so hard. She just hadn't realized that what he was possibly hiding was _Damian._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember kids, our heroes aren’t indestructible. Tim did watch everything with Damian go down. Baby isn’t okay. (Writer isn’t okay either tbh) Anyway I’m not sure when we’ll be able to get the next chapter because unlike this one, it isn’t even started yet. I also got like three books I don’t want to read for my English class (They’re short though, so there’s that.) Good news though: the chapter after that one is 80% written ;)


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t expecting to have this done until this weekend. Oh well. :) Anyway idk what’s even going on anymore this stuff kind of just occurs so yeah. The next two chapters have at least 900 words each already done so you guys should be happy ;)

 

He woke three times.

 

The first time his vision was distorted, and he felt the odd weightlessness that told him he was suspended in some type of liquid. A blurry hand appeared in his line of sight, and with a start he realized that he was in some to of translucent tube. He felt like the main attraction in a sideshow and he felt irritation flare up, and he welcomed the chance to feel _anything._  

 

Darkness embraced him again.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

The second time he returned to true consciousness, it was to the distinct scent of his Father’s aftershave. There was a tube shoved down his throat, needles in his arms, and he was most definitely in his own bed. He knew this because of the comfort it provided him and the fact that when he looked to his left, he was met with features so like his own.

 

Blue eyes widened as his Father started, quite obviously surprised to see him looking back. Before anything else could happen, Damian tried to take a deep breath… And promptly choked on the tube in his mouth.

 

His Father immediately pitched forward to support him with a sturdy hand on his back. Damian pulled the tube out himself and took careful, steady breathes until the simple act no longer made him feel as if he were swallowing needles.

 

When he reached that point, he licked his dry lips and met his Father’s gaze.

 

“Hello,” he said.

 

Fingers tightened against his spine and Damian saw the anger in his Father’s eyes, the almost madness.

 

“What happened?”

 

Bruce Wayne offered no greeting, no question of health. Instead the set of his features screamed sorrow and promised retribution.

 

 _‘A knight indeed,’_ Damian thought offhandedly as he tried to find a way to answer his question.

 

“I-“ he started, tongue feeling like lead in his mouth.

 

Trying to recall anything before that moment was like dragging a stone from the depths of a marsh, as he still felt rather sluggish.

 

_‘What had happened?’_

 

“What happened to you?” his Father repeated again.

 

Damian grasped at his hair, searching for answers for the one man he couldn’t stand to displease and found-

 

_Tim lying broken-_

“Damian-“

_A silver sword shining crimson in the light-_

“-what’s-“

_The taste of copper on his tongue-_

“-going-“

_Tim would be fine he had to be-_

“-on?“

 

_Where was Rowan she was always there but now she’s not where-_

A large hand grasped his shoulder and he flinched away.

 

_“Darkness then his features above him on a feminine face-“_

“Alfred!”

 

_Where was his Father where was Jason where was Dick where was Tim-_

“Sir? When did he awake? What hap-“

 

_Where was Rowan-_

“-pened?”

 

_Everything hurt so much pain so much so much-_

“I asked what was wrong and he-“

 

_Tim lying on the ground bloody he’d left him he’d-_

“-did this!”

 

_Bright lights and whispered words it was all his fault all his-_

“Sir, I believe he may be having-“

 

_‘This is the depth of a Mother’s love’ she whispered and he was submerged and his pain was no more-_

“-a panic attack.”

 

_But Rowan had been crying, where was she-_

“If he’s having a panic attack then we need to give him space!” Tim shouted and Damian wondered when his _Soul Mate_ had entered the room-

 

_-lying bloody broken all his fault-_

“I believe he may hurt himself-“

 

_-he wasn’t strong enough fast enough-_

“Sedate him then!” his father said and hands where on him again-

 

_- **good** enough._

His body felt heavy, and everyone around him seemed to be talking at once. Tim, wherever he had come from, was within reach and so Damian took solace the only way he could and reached out, placing his hand directly over Tim’s heart.

 

The erratic beat lulled him into a false sleep because it meant Tim was _alive_.

 

_‘I wish I didn’t love you,’ she whispered. He wished the same, because maybe then she would have let him be. Maybe then he could have kept them safe. Maybe then, he could have had time to find everywhere he went wrong and fix the mess he’d made._

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

When he woke for the third and final time, he almost wished he’d stayed in the comfort of oblivion because there, his thoughts could not find him.

 

There, his guilt would not consume him.

 

There, he was not a failure.

 

( _There, his family did not feel shut out by a broken boy so lost in his mistakes that he would not even acknowledge their presence.)_

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

He didn't breathe for weeks because when he’d woken up Damian _hadn’t been there_. Tim had passed out on the battlefield to the sight of Damian on the ground and practically swimming in his own blood as Talia Al Ghul stood over him, stroking his arm. Then he’d woken up a day later in Gotham wrapped up and feeling like he’d just taken the last step off of the world. He survived, but he could not take a breath because truthfully, he was drowning in himself. He could hardly function and he was ashamed because he’d never wanted to get that low.

 

All he’d wanted was to help; that’s all he’d ever wanted.

 

Then, they found Damian in the one place they’d never thought to look: home. Damian had been left in his bed, looking perfect as ever save for his slightly overgrown hair and the various medical equipment still hooked to him.

 

Tim had been angry for sure; angry that Talia had been able to take him, angry that she’d made them think Damian was dead, angry that she’d put him _back._ He’d been angry, but even though Damian had withdrawn into himself, he was at least with them physically, and faced with the choice of absolutely nothing, even having half of him back was better.

 

Even having a Damian who refused to leave his room or talk to anyone gave Tim the part of himself back that he’d thought he had lost.

 

When he found his mentor, hero, and second father in his study, head bowed and face shining with moisture, Tim knew that there was a possibility that they wouldn’t be okay.

 

The harsh truth was that no one knew exactly what had happened, Bruce was crying, Dick was nowhere to be found, Jason looked haunted, but for the first time in weeks, Tim took a breath. The air tasted of sorrow and his own guilt, but it was sweet none the less because even if he was broken, Damian was _back._

More importantly, broken things could be fixed.

 

Feeling lighter than he had in days, Tim left his hurting family to find his equally hurting Soul Mate. Damian was, of course, where they'd left him. He was far too still, far too quiet, but he was _Damian_ and so Tim entered his room without asking and situated himself on the side Damian was curled up at, and waited.

 

"Damian?" he asked, not daring to touch him.

 

He hadn't responded before, and Tim couldn't stand it. He'd have done anything for the younger boy to lash out at him, whether it was with his acid tongue or his fists. It would have been better; it would have been normal.

 

It would have meant that he was coming back to them, and more than anything, that was what the family needed. Not knowing where he was had been hard, but it was just as difficult to have him with them but not _with them._

 

It hurt that Damian refused to do more than stare silently whenever Tim tried to talk to him, but it was better than the vacant looks the rest of his family got. It hurt, but it was something so he'd take it.

 

But even if he couldn't do anything, he thought he knew someone who could. The only problem was that before, he'd been too scared to approach her, to bare his mistakes for her to see. He'd been scared, and he was more so now.

 

He was scared of a little girl who'd never shown him anything but kindness, and it was all because she, with all of her soft edges, could probably break him.

 

She could break him, and he'd never be able to fight back because in a way, he was sure he'd already broken her.

 

The difference between them was that she could pull through; he wasn't so sure about himself.

 

When a rough hand cupped his cheek, almost as if to see if he was real, Tim knew he'd have to swallow his fear.

 

Heart heavy, Tim reached out and let the rough stumble on Damian's cheek scrap against his palm.

 

"Do you want me to go get our girl?" he asked carefully.

 

Damian was possessive, and Tim hoped his choice of words would penetrate whatever walls the younger boy had used to block everyone out.

 

He knew his gamble had paid off when Damian's green eyes cleared, for just a second, and he took a shuddering breath.

 

"She’s not ours," he rasped.

 

Tim wanted to laugh, because even this was a step forward.

 

“You can’t tell me you haven’t realized by now.”

 

“I didn’t… I’d never thought of it like that. She’s always just been… Rowan. ” he looked ready to try and deny it, he really did.

 

“Exaclty.”

 

“I’m not good for her…” Damian said after a while, turning away.

 

“When has anything like that ever stopped you?”

 

He _almost_ smirked, and Tim took that as a win. One had to revel in the little victories.

 

“We fucked up,” Damian pointed out, and Tim wanted punch himself because of course they did; of course _he_ did.

 

"You're right," he said instead," but she'll forgive us. She always does..."

 

Damian finally graced him with a familiar smirk, and then he was gone, but Tim felt himself begin to loosen. They'd be all right; they'd pull through. This was just another rough patch for them, and Rowan would help.

 

He and Damian were opposing forces but Rowan was their neutral ground and she’d help them because it was in her nature. She'd help them because they were a mess, and she was too. They’d pull each other apart and build each other back up because that was their way and it made sense because it didn’t and that was everything they’d ever be. It was just a matter of bringing their separate disasters together again to form one chaotic purgatory. That was where they thrived. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they have some stuff to work out next chapter, they all do. They’re tired, and hurting, and they’re hormonal teens so angst is strongly felt. I wonder if Damian will talk to her??? I wonder why he didn’t want to talk to anyone??? Hmmm what’s our boy thinking?? Arent yall glad we got Tim here to find all the right words???


	26. Chapter 26

**_THERE IS AN ACTUAL CHAPTER UNDER THE LONG ASS AUTHOR_ ** **_’S NOTE._ **

**Im exhausted, and it** **’s like past 1 am. Im just, ugh. I** **’m not 100% how this came out so please tell me if you find any inconsistencies. I have so much more to say but mostly to those who stuck with me: thank you. I just** **… yeah. I refuse to take my AN down, and so I** **’ll leave it above this chapter. Read it, don** **’t, whatever. It** **’s there because I want it be and I believe some people should have the option of seeing it. All anyone really needs to worry about is when I have time to update next** **…**

**Okay let's get something straight; let's get something absolutely positively one hundred and one percent straight: Nascent by Marshmallowtime did copy ideas from my story.**

**I dont browse through the Batman archive much anymore because simply put, I can't. I've invested so much time and effort into this story that I can hardly stand to read other's stories, but I respect them. I respect the hell out of every writer on this site for the simple reason that when you write, you're baring everything in your soul, and some stuff you didn't even know was there. For me it is therapeutic, for me it means so much more.**

**However yesterday evening I had a urge to checkout the archive, for old times sake. I wanted to see what was out there, to appreciate what I consider an art form, even if it is just casual writings for glorious works that already exist.**

**And you know what I found? I found Nascent. I decided to see what it was like because the summary reminded me of my own**

**Similar idea right? Similar words? I thought it was cool, I really did. 'Why dont I go read this, this sounds cool.' But do you know what I found in the first chapter? I found warning bells.**

**I found a girl in a kitchen with messy brown hair who liked to bake where she wasnt supposed to be; her mother angry at her because she wasn't supposed to be there; her mother a server for a catering company at Wayne manor; an eventual meeting with Damian where she promises to teach him how to do a specific skill.**

**THAT is what I found. And you know what? It made me angry. It made me angry because there was something that had taken me over six months to work up the courage to post, only in slightly different words with slightly different nuances.**

**And I tried to be the bigger person, I sent the link out and asked people for their opinion because I knew I was emotionally compromised. One of my closest friends, someone who's followed me from the beginning and listened to two am rants about forgotten ideas, headconons, and plot ideas, got angry too. They themselves went through the story and sent me screenshots of scenes from my story, that had found their way into Nascent. Scenes, as in multiple. Only she was not me and she posted her anger. ONLY then, did I receive a message from the author. And sure, before the author had mentioned my story in their latest chapter, but they had not previously contacted me. They had waited seven months after posting their first chapter, so similar to mine, and even then did not apologize or state all they had taken. They merely said 'i borrowed some idea', or something of the like.**

**And of course, I was angry. But we talked, we worked it out, and you know what? I was thinking of letting it go. I really was. But then the morning came, and I am not stupid. I am bitter, angry, and passive aggressive, but I am not stupid. I saw the sugar coated words and the edits and the 'apology that was not an apology but a defense'.**

**I saw that I had become the offender, and she the victim. And that is not okay.**

**She took my work, and did not ask. She then victimized herself, and that is not something I will condone.**

**So here, in all my emotional ramblings, I say this: Marshmallowtime did take my scenes, my ideas, and make them their own. Without my consent. Then this reflected badly on ME, because in the midst of stories that mean nothing in the long run, I am angry that my idea was taken. I am angry that something I created was borrowed, though it is now edited, and the irony of that is not lost on me.**

**As a fanfiction writer, I know I often borrow ideas without the original author ever knowing, I know I am a hypocrite.**

**But I am angry, and bitter, and this is my feeling. This story is everything I need it to be, do not take and create from what you dont understand. This story is more than just a story to me, it is a tribute to every little kid who was too brown too fat too in between too frizzy too messy too freckly too blind too anxious too not enough.**

**This story is my tribute to the average ones, the ones who are perfect in all of their imperfection.**

**Marshmallowtime is an excellent writer, but do not defend them without knowing what I feel. I am hurt, and though the author may try, that will never change. I do not need fake apologies from someone who does not understand. Comment what you'd like, but do not make me the aggressor because you like their story better, because you find fault with my own. Do not tarnish my soul because you think someone else's shines brighter with the pieces of it they have stolen.**

**I am disheartened, and I have no idea when I will get back the strength I need to post a chapter again.**

**Thank you for your time, your care, and everything you all have given me. Hopefully by the time the weekend is over, another chapter will be done.**

**In response to those who think I need to 'get off my high horse' I didn't reference any other Soul Mark Au's because I am not borrowing scenes from them, furthermore the Soul Mark AU is a common Au, but if you want me to give credit I will. The first Soul Mark AU I ever read and liked was write love on my skin by amusewithaveiw on archive of our own. Check them out, they're fabulous. I am creating my own. Im not angry because Marshmallowtime used my idea, because they didn't. Their story is original. Im angry because they used my SCENES. Which is different.**

**Do not come after me without knowing the whole story. I would have done this privately had the reviewer had an account.**

**It is not general idea that hurt me, but the content and lack of consent. I have wanted to use characters and ideas before; and I've asked. i had entire conversations and made sure everything i wanted to use had 100% permission. There is a head canon I saw and liked that I even asked permission before using. It's all about communication, I'm sorry if I appreciate common courtesy.**

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

She was lying on her bed, feet against her wall and book in her hands when she heard him. Really, she probably should have screamed.

 

When Tim said her name and sat himself on the floor by her bed, however, Rowan simply closed her book.

 

“Hey.”

 

This was normal, this she could do. This was familiar, and that was all she wanted. She just wanted to feel like something was going to make sense for once.

 

“Would you like to come over?”

 

Rowan pushed herself back until her head hung over the edge of the bed and she was distracted by the blood rushing to her brain instead of the hurt that wanted to but in where it didn’t belong.

 

“To?”

 

He didn’t look at her, nor did he touch her when he got up and stuck his hands in his pockets, body almost seeming to try and close in on itself.

 

“The Manor… Where else?”

 

She narrowed her eyes at him because she hadn’t been to Wayne Manor in years. He hadn’t spoken to her in _months_ and after being a complete and utter weirdo and following her like a mute stalker, he was asking her that?

 

“Why?”

 

He licked his lips, and Rowan noticed just how dry they looked. She also noticed the dark bags under his blue eyes, and the sheen of unwashed hair. He wasn’t looking his best, and that, more than anything, startled her. Tim _always_ dressed to impress. Whether he was understated or not, Timothy Drake always looked put together.

 

“Damian needs to see you. There’s something wrong.”

 

She would have said no, should have said no, but the look on his face told her that wasn’t an option. His words told her that something was _wrong._ She hadn’t heard from Damian in weeks either, and apparently neither had Colin. Now he wanted to see her, and that set something off in her mind.

 

But, because she was worried about _Damian_ more than she was worried about everything else, she decided to go.

 

She would figure out the rest later.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

They were standing in front of the door when she realized that something seriously weird was going on; namely because standing outside of Damian’s bedroom door was _all_ they were doing.

 

Immediately she tried to open the door, but to her shock she found the door _locked_. She glanced at Tim quickly, and noted that he didn't look surprised.

 

He knocked on the door once.

 

"It's Tim," he called out simply.

 

There was no reply, and suddenly she understood what he'd meant when he'd said that there was 'something wrong'. Only she didn't know why she was there, because if he wasn't going to let Tim in, he certainly wouldn't let her.

 

If he’d been locked in there for weeks, which she strongly suspected, then he had to have had his reasons. He had to…

 

"Tim I don't think-" she tried. He didn't let her finish.

 

"Don't Rowan, please just... I know we messed up, but please just talk to him. Please."

 

She made the mistake of looking into his eyes, and she nearly drowned there. The deep blue depths where hiding things from her; she could see the unspoken secrets in the unshed tears. She should have known that it had to be something big if he had to call her. She was the last ditch effort.

 

"'’Kay," she finally settled.

 

Stomach rolling uncomfortably, she moved towards the door and laid her fingertips against the cool wood. The wood was smooth and a darker brown than her hand. It was thick, and she'd never really liked knocking on it, as it had always made her knuckles sore. All doors usually did. She knew that most people felt the same discomfort, just as she knew that most of them had a much higher pain tolerance than she did.

 

' _Just one more reminder of how weak I am_ ,' she thought to herself; all the while trying to fight off a sardonic smile.

 

She didn't dwell on that, however; she couldn't. So she allowed her fingers to spread out, palm against the hard surface, and knocked with her palm. It made a much quieter, different sound than a normal knock would have. Usually she would have scrunched her hand up a bit to allow her nails to tap against the wood as well, but at the moment that wasn't an option.

 

She’d bitten them to the quick in the last couple of days.

 

After a few seconds of silence, she turned to give Tim a look. She hadn't expected it to open. He gave her a look right back, and opened his mouth to speak loudly. She hoped that no one would hear, but doubted that they would given that no one had greeted them when they’d come in. Not even Alfred.

 

"Rowan's with-"

 

He was cut off by the small click of a lock, and Rowan immediately ripped her gaze away from him to settle on the now opening door. She could feel her heart in her throat, _beating beating beating_ , but she'd be _damned_ if it didn't quite literally stop the moment her eyes rested on Damian.

 

He looked as if he'd grown since she'd last seen him. He was taller, maybe even more so than Tim. Broader shouldered too. His green eyes, usually sharp and sparkling, seemed dull as Tim's had become, and they were ringed darkly from obvious lack of sleep. His hair, usually immaculate in its short, chic cut was overgrown for its style. His chest, though expected, was riddled with fading bruises that had her shifting uncomfortably. Worst of all though, was his expression. There was no smirk for her. No perfect smile hard won from years of acting classes and an arrogant personality. No mischievously blank facade. Not even a displeased sneer. Instead, as she watched him walk back to his unmade bed and climb in, all she could think of was the utterly lost feeling he practically radiated.

 

Belatedly, she realized that she'd dropped her bag. She looked down at it and briefly wiggled her fingers, but found that she couldn't even muster up the feeling to pick it back up. In all of the 4 years she'd known him, not once had she ever seen him looking so _broken._

She looked for guidance in the boy beside her, but for the first time, she let everything she'd been feeling simply _go._ She saw him for how he truly was, and saw that he was just as messed up as the boy in front of her. It broke the heart that she'd tried so carefully to guard.

 

He’d gotten her for help with Damian, but she had the feeling that he may need it just as much. But right now, he was functioning, right now, he was moving through it all. And right now, Damian was _not_.

 

So she toed off her converse and socks, unziped her hoodie, and pushed it all into a pile with her bag. She didn't know what to do; didn't even know what she _could_ do, but she walked across the large room to the oversized bed anyway.

 

He was in the middle, head buried under his blanket with the rest of him. She didn't know if it was smart, didn't know if he'd hurt her or yell or simply tell her to fuck off, but she climbed into the bed and kneeled beside his head, butt on her heels.

 

"Damian?" she asked softly.

 

He didn't respond.

 

 _'Of course_ ,' she thought.

 

She also thought that she should get up. That she should leave him. But she couldn't. Her legs seemed to be weighed down by lead, and her heart hurt.

 

She sat there for nearly half an hour before she started getting that pins and needles feeling in her legs. She sat there, as Tim eventually left and closed the door. She sat there for half an hour, watching the Damian shaped lump in the covers, silent.

 

She sat there for half an hour, before she finally got the nerve to suck it up and leave. She didn't know how she'd tell Tim that she couldn't do anything, but she would have to.

 

That didn't stop her heart from hurting, though. That didn't stop the painful _tug tug tug_ of the traitorous organ. It didn't stop her stomach from swirling either. As she began her crawl back to the edge of his bed, she thought she might actually throw up. Funny how the body worked like that.

 

And then suddenly she couldn't move forward anymore. This time it had nothing to do with her traitorous body, however. No, it had more to do with the larger than she was used to hand wrapped securely around her ankle. She gasped, and true to her awkward fashion, the momentum she'd been using to scoot away from him had her flat on her face.

 

She stayed just like that for a second. Nose digging into the linen that smelled purely of _Damian,_ and a warm hand tethering her to said boy.

 

"Please," he said after a few seconds more, “just... Don't leave."

 

Immediately she sucked in a breathe and pushed up. She maneuvered around until she could properly face him. He let go of her ankle so she could move, but the moment she'd settled cross legged in front of him, he'd immediately worked one hand to grasp her knee.

 

All she could see of him was his unruly hair poking out from the top of his blanket, and those green, green eyes.

 

They stared at each other for a second, just like that.

 

"Ro, please don't leave. I'm sorry, so, so sorry. Please, don't leave," he said hoarsely, voice cracking from disuse. And to her surprise, he seemed to almost be... Begging.

 

She was in shock, to say the least. Damian didn't apologize; it just wasn't something he did... But after what he'd done, what he'd said, she wouldn't have truly forgiven him if he hadn't. But she didn't want it to be like this. She didn't want him begging her while he looked as if he was drowning in himself. They had things that needed to be discussed, issues that needed to be resolved, but not like this.

 

However he _had_ said he was sorry.

 

Taking a deep breathe, she reached out to gently lay her palm against his cheek. It was cold to the touch.

 

"Damian, it's fine. It's okay I promise, just stop doing that. I'm not going anywhere. And I'm sorry too."

 

And she was. He'd been unnecessarily cold, but so had she. She'd shut him out. She'd done the same to Tim, and she needed to apologize to him as well, but that was something to do later. This was something to do now.

 

God, that was an issue too. She couldn’t put Tim on the back burner like that. She couldn’t keep favoring one over the other.

 

When he closed his eyes and laid his other hand against the one she'd placed on his cheek, she couldn't help but smile softly. The action felt traitorous, but she couldn’t help it. Despite his surely nature, he'd always liked to be touched.

 

 "I haven’t asked Tim, but I don’t think you’ve been sleeping lately," she murmured softly.

 

He opened his eyes again, and looked up at her.

 

"Neither has he," the boy replied, voice muffled under his blanket.

 

She blinked, and remembered the bags she'd seen under his eyes.

 

"You both need a nap," she stated simply, moving to lie beside him so that they'd be eye level.

 

He stared at her again, and she tried not to fidget. She damn neared jumped off the bed when his arm shot out and snaked around her waist though.

 

She could feel her face nearing to nuclear levels, but before she could freak out he was speaking to her.

 

"I don't need a nap," he said quietly.

 

He sounded like a petulant child and she thought it was funny. She also thought it was normal, and that soothes her more than anything.

 

"There's a difference between lying around and sleeping Damian,” she told him gently.

 

“Yes, but if I lay around you’ll still be here.”

 

Rowan’s breathe caught in her throat, and she put her hand against his cheek again.

 

“I’ll take a nap with you,” she murmmered.

 

He almost looked as if he didn’t believe her, but after a few moments, he closed his eyes.

 

She watched him for a while, then removed her glasses and closed her own eyes.

 

She was still scared, still worried, but reveled in his scent, his warmth, and the arm around her waist and wondered-

 

 _‘_ What _happened to you?_ _”_

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

She woke to the feel of Damian shaking her shoulder gently, and her reaction was simple: she told him to fuck off and proceeded to roll away from his grasp. On reflex, she reached out with her hand to move the books she had pushed into her wall so that she wouldn't lie on them. Except when she did so, her hand simply grasped more bed, and it is in that moment that her mind abruptly caught up with her.

 

"Oh fuck," she breathed once she cracked open her eyes, only to be met with blurry darkness.

 

As her memories began to assemble themselves, Rowan turned her head towards where she figured Damian would be. The movement made her all too aware of the fact that her clothes were plastered to her body, damp with sweat. She grimaced once she was able to pinpoint the unfocused outline of a body, and she fisted her too warm T-shirt in her hand.

 

"It's from all the body heat trapped under my blankets," Damian said, obviously noticing her discomfort," I'm perspiring too."

 

Rowan wrinkled her nose at him and went to sit up; pulling the clip out of her hair once she was vertical. She never slept with it in, and her sore scalp was a testament as to why. She gently massaged the tender area, not caring that her hair was a wild mess at that point.

 

"What time is it?" she asked her friend, her stomach sinking as she finally took in the stark blackness of the room.

 

Her Mama had given her permission to visit, not spend the night.

 

"Late," Damian said absentmindedly.

 

Rowan rolled her eyes and tried not to pinch him.

 

"You wanna check for me," she asked him, still squinting hard," also do you know where my glasses are?" She finished.

 

At this point, she thought it would be kind of nice to see.

 

Damian didn't respond, but after a moment her glasses were being pushed into her hand, and once she had them on she saw Damian's face illuminated by the bright screen of his phone. She felt a shiver go through her body, and hopped he didn't notice. He looked better than he had when she'd first come; he looked more there. But now that she wasn't distracted by his state of mind, she could see the heavy bag under his almond shaped eyes.

 

"It's 1:14 am," he murmured eventually, still scrolling through his phone.

 

She felt her heart skip a beat, and there was a plethora of curses on the tip of her tongue when Damian saved her from having an aneurism.

 

"Pennyworth came by earlier; he said your Mother said it was okay for you to stay the night."

 

Rowan let out a sigh of relief at that. Just imagining how pissed her Mama could have been was _not_ fun. She had no idea how Alfred had convinced her Mama to let her spend the night, but she wasn't complaining.

 

Now that she was slightly more alert and not in fear of her Mama kicking her ass, Rowan moved carefully towards the green eyed boy.

 

"You okay?" she asked when she was close enough to lay a hand his arm.

 

He stopped his fiddling for a moment to look at her, actually _look._ She nearly balked at the intensity of his gaze. It was only the fact that he closed his eyes for an even longer pause that kept her there.

 

"Yeah," he said, taking in a deep breath," I think I will be."

 

When he opened his eyes again, she was met with a much calmer stare.

 

"I need to take a shower," he told her, finally setting down his phone.

 

She nodded in reply and moved to step off of his bed. She probably needed a rinse too, but for now she'd settle on simply shucking off her sweaty clothes and stealing some of Damian's. It wasn't like he hadn't taken enough of her T-shirts when they were little.  

 

In all honesty, she had no idea what to do from there. It felt like there was something different about him now; something... Off.

 

Yet treating him how she would have before had worked earlier, so with a steely resolve she swallowed down the fear of the unknown within her. She didn't know what he needed, didn't know how to help him, but she could at least try and distract him.

 

"Do you want to play some video games on the big TV after?" she asked hesitantly.

 

The small smile he gave her eased the knot in her gut.

 

"Only if you make snacks," he replied.

 

That made her feel even better.

 

"It's a deal then," she grinned, tapping him lightly on the stomach as she did so.

 

She didn't think Alfred would mind her using the kitchen... And if he did she'd just leave him some muffins or something. No one could turn down apology muffins.

 

With that thought in mind, she watched Damian head into his personal bathroom before wandering over to his drawers to pull out a T-shirt and some basketball shorts.

 

With a hum she flicked through the various shirts, looking for one that wouldn't fit her like a dress... And found none.

 

With a huff, Rowan took a step back. She should have realized by now that since Damian had obviously hit a growth spurt in the time they'd been apart, he'd have thrown away all of his old, smaller clothes. Granted they'd never been the same size, by still he'd always been close enough that his shirts still fit her comfortably.

 

Everything he had now would probably fit two of her. If she thought about it, it made sense considering how large his Dad was. Bruce Wayne was a big, linebacker type of guy and she had no doubt Damian would be the same. The thought was daunting at the least because he was pretty damn intimidating as he was. When his hormones leveled out and his body proportions caught up to each other, Damian was going to be a damn mountain and she was going to have to be careful not to get stepped on.

 

Sighing, she shrugged on the smallest shirt she could find and walked out of the room barefoot, her sleeve falling off of her shoulder. Damian would find her eventually. 

 

 _'At least Tim probably won't end up looking like a fucking bear,'_ she thought to herself.

 

And with that she changed course and decided to go steal Tim's clothes because A) his would probably fit better and B) It'd been way too long since she'd driven his ass off of Rainbow Road while he was distracted by a brownie.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

He was in his room, but unlike her, it was obvious he hadn’t been sleeping.

 

He was still on his toes, however, and so when he saw her he immediately brought her a smaller t-shirt and a pair of swim trunks.

 

She took them, but raised an eyebrow at the swim wear.

 

“I don’t have any basketball shorts, none of my sweats have draw strings, and I don’t wear boxers.”

 

That was a good enough answer for her, and so she dashed into his bathroom, changed quickly, and ambled out with a ball of both her and Damian’s clothes.

 

“Thanks,” she said, smiling slightly.

 

When she received no reply, she hopped up beside him on his bed and lied on her stomach. He was staring blankly at the ceiling, and he looked more than a little distraught.

 

She poked him in the side.

 

He flinched slightly, and finally turned his attention towards her.

 

“Rowan?”

 

“Hmm?” she replied, finally comfortable.

 

Getting out of gross clothes really did wonders for one’s state of being.

 

“If I kept something from you, would you hate me for it?”

 

Having one of your closest friends ask you questions like _that_ ruined good moods.

 

Immediately going on defensive, Rowan tensed up.

 

“It depends…”

 

He turned away from her.

 

“What if I told you it was about Damian?”

 

A swift lick of cold swept through her and she knew what this was about.

 

“What happened?”

 

He shook his head.

 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

 

She poked him again, this time harder.

 

“It shouldn’t matter.”

 

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

 

“And if it does?”

 

She thought about that, and then decided that she didn’t want to put forward the mental energy required to deal with Tim at the moment.

 

“Then don’t tell me.”

 

It looked like he was going to do just that when seconds ticked into minutes, and she decided that when she next saw Damian they were going to have a talk about disappearing acts.

 

Then Tim stopped that train of thought and let it crash into a flaming heap.

 

“He died.”

 

A million thoughts flew through her mind at once, a million feelings hit her, but one thing stayed evident:

 

“ _Timothy. What. Happened._ _”_

 

Tim sat up and his head fell into his hands as his elbows rested on his knees. He looked defeated, and she couldn’t even imagine what he was going through.

 

The thing with Tim was that he tried to keep too many things to himself, tried to take on too much at once. He tried, but _trying_ doesn’t always equal success. She knew that, she _knew_ but she didn’t know if he did because he looked scared and if he was scared that meant she should be fucking terrified.

 

“It was... It was his Mom, Talia. When we were in SanFrancisco a few weeks ago… He was missing for days.”

 

_Missing for days._

 

The words echoed over and over in her mind, and she _hated_ it. She hadn’t wanted to hear that, but it wasn’t for the obvious reasons.

 

No, the implications of what had happened to Damian in those days didn’t terrify her as much as the fact that he’d been gone for days having god knows what done to him and _no one had told her._

She felt absolutely disgusting for feeling the way she did, but subconsciously, she knew Damian could handle himself because he was _Damian._

 

Damian pulled through the stupidest situations for the simple reason that he was Damian. His body was tougher than usual, his mind was sharp as any blade, and he had more drive than she’d ever seen in her life. He didn’t _lose_. Not to Gotham’s villains, not to the Teen Titan’s enemies, and most certainly not to his _Mother_. He didn’t lose. (Except Tim said he’d died, so he obviously had.)

 

Damian Wayne did not lose, but he’d been gone and Tim had kept it from her and that _hurt_. (It hurt because it was better feeling that pain then the one she experience when she thought of Damian ceasing to be. She was good at hiding her feelings this way.)

 

(Except when she wasn’t. Then she was reduced to trying to lie to herself, and that was just laughable.)

 

“You… Weren’t going to tell me where you?”

 

“I want to say that you’re wrong, but I don’t think I can,” he said carefully.

 

She was biting her tongue. She was biting her tongue and there was a numbing, disgusting fear within her because for the first time, she was realizing that her friends weren’t as invincible as she selfishly made them out to be.

 

She was realizing that they were entirely too breakable.

 

Entirely too prone to mistakes.

 

Entirely too human.

 

But she laid beside her oh-so-flawed friend and listened as he told her of their fragility.

 

She laid besides him and listened, and became angry.

 

She was disgusted with herself, and with him, but she did not move.

 

He'd left  her in the dark, even if he ‘d thought it best and she hated it, but she didn't hate _him._ She couldn't, not matter how much she wanted to at the moment.

 

Because she couldn’t hate him, and because even if she probably should, she didn't want to leave him, Rowan followed her instincts and took him by the hair. She pulled his head back gently, and he let her and she looked him in the eye so he could see the tears she would not shed, the anger, the betrayal. She held him, and made sure he heard every word that came out of her mouth.

 

"Don’t keep things from me. Don't ever lie to me or trick me, Tim. Especially about things like this, about him. About _you._ I can't- I'm not-" she stopped, struggling for words and couldn't help but to dig her nails into his scalp. Usually her hands where on her own body and so she was used to the sharp pinch of her nails to calm herself, but Tim was not and so he flinched.

 

Sighing, she let him go and scrubbed her hands across her face, smudging her glasses and scraping her cheek in the process.

 

"I can't do that again Tim," she whispered," never again."

 

She couldn't look at him anymore, but she did not stop him from twirling his fingers lightly in the ends of her hair.

 

It was comforting, and even now she couldn't deny how much she'd missed that. How much she'd missed them.

 

"Ro," he said softly, bringing his fingers from her hair to trail across her cheek and then rest on the edge of her chin.

 

She shook her head and pulled his hand away, but did not let go of the two fingers she'd grabbed ahold of.

 

"Ro, look at me. Please?"

 

She didn't want to look at him. She wanted to yell, and cry, and maybe slap some sense into the silly boy. At the same time, however, she didn't.

 

She thought it funny how that worked.

 

So she took the better option, the easier option, and opened her eyes. He was staring at her dead on, and she took note of the sincerity of his features. Without them, she never would have believed his words.

 

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry and I'll never do it again, I promise. Just please, forgive me."

 

She should have made him wait, should have said no because the fact of the matter was that he'd left her when he was hurting the most and that, in turn, hurt her too. She probably couldn't have done anything, she knew that. It didn't stop the swirling in her stomach every time she thought of him suffering alone, however.

 

In the end, it is for that very reasons that she gave him a small smile, and squeezed his fingers with all her might. Then, she admitted a truth that she'd known all along.

 

"Don't promise Tim. You won't be able to keep it. That's okay, though. I forgive you. I think I'm a little bit crazy because I know next time, I'll forgive you again."

 

Tim didn’t return her smile.

 

"You think I'm a liar?"

 

Rowan sighed, and finally let go of Tim's hand.

 

"No, Tim Cat," she said in a teasing attempt to let him know that she wasn't mad," I think you're a manipulator. You always get what you want and that's fine, just please at least try and be more careful, at least with me:"

 

He sat up and looked at her, disbelief evident on his face.

 

"I'm not-"

 

"You _are,_ " she said quickly, cutting him off," You're manipulative, Damian is homicidal, and I'm just a mess. Know thy self, Tim Cat."

 

The name probably confused him more than anything, so she kept using it. That and it sounded cute. Tim reminded her of a cat most of the time. As far as she was concerned, he was nothing but a big tom cat.

 

Tim's jaw clenched and he ran his hand through his already disarrayed hair.

 

"I don't know what you want me to say."

 

Rowan laughed softly, because of course he thought she wanted something. He probably thought she was still mad, and trying to insult him. He probably thought she was all kinds of crazy too, since she'd gone from angry to teasing.

 

The truth was that it was the only way she knew to keep herself from falling apart.

 

"I don't want you to say anything. All I want is for this mess to be over. All I want is to watch movies again, to eat snacks until I can't taste anything but sugar."

 

Tim looked at her, really _looked._

 

"You want things to go back to how they were before?"

 

She nodded.

 

"You know that can't happen."

 

She shrugged, and took off her glasses to clean them on her shirt.

 

"Why not?"

 

"You know why."

 

She really didn't.

 

"No?" she questioned.

 

Honestly not three minutes after saying he would try to be better, and he was already talking circles around her. There was a reason she preferred Damian's straight forward approach.

 

"You're my Soul Mate, Rowan. His too. You have to know that."

 

She froze, and used the feel of her teeth digging into the tip of her tongue to ground herself.

 

“It’s not-“

 

“Easy? I know. Nothing with us is easy.”

 

Rowan sighed, and stood up off of the bed. That wasn’t what she’d planed on saying, though it was true enough.

 

“It’sNotWhatYouWant.”

 

There, she’d said it fast enough to not embarrass herself by falling over her words.

 

“What was that?”

 

_‘Dammit Tim._ _’_

She didn’t want to have that conversation. All she wanted was to head to the kitchen, cook something, and then pass out on the couch with Damian at one side and Tim on the other while the ps4 served as her lullaby. All she wanted was to go back to how they used to be.

 

“Look I know that I’m…”

 

She really didn’t want to have to say it.

 

“You’re not what, Rowan?”

 

She wasn’t what he wanted. Not like that.

 

“I’m not… What you expected,” she finally whispered.

 

She stepped away from the bed and crossed her arms around herself, trying not to look at him.

 

“And?” he asked back.

 

She blinked, and brought her eyes to his face.

 

“We don’t have to do this Tim, I know you’re having trouble with Damian.”

 

Tim was silent, and she took that as acceptance. Staying how they where was the best option, really. She already knew she wasn’t exactly their type, and she was okay with that. She just wanted them to stop acting like dumb asses.

 

Rubbing at her arms, Rowan made her way towards Tim’s door.

 

_‘Alfred probably has nuts somewhere in the kitchen. I could make-_ _‘_

 

“Have either of us ever made you think we didn’t want you?”

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

When he’d asked the question, he’d meant it whole heartedly.

 

Rowan had never been one to dwell on her insecurities. He knew she had them; they all did. She, however, always tended to move through them. She did it so often that he had nearly forgotten that she wasn’t exactly immune to herself.

 

Watching her stumble her way through ignoring the fact that they were soul mates made the thought that maybe she wasn’t as self-assured as she appeared to be rise to the forefront of his mind. 

 

Watching her entire body tense when he questioned her told him that she was probably thinking about some things that wouldn’t make any sense to him.

 

“I…” she started,” I just..”

 

He raised his eyebrows and got up to follow her.

 

“You just what?”

 

Her fingers where twitching and he hoped she wouldn’t go for her bracelets. They probably did a number on her circulation.

 

“I uh, like, there’s a bit of an… age difference?”

 

He took in the way she wasn’t looking at him and was absolutely sure she wasn’t telling him the whole truth.

 

Though to be fair, the age thing bothered him too. If he let it get to him now, however, he had a feeling he’d lose her. Or, at the very least, make the future hard on them all.

 

“There are only two years between you and Damian, and the four between us isn’t so much.”

She blushed _hard_ at that and he was almost sure he knew what she was thinking.

 

“No one’s planning to have any sex if that’s what you’re worried about.”

 

Her head bowed and she covered her face with her hands, and he was sure that if he kept this up she’d give in soon. For all of her trashy romance novels, she was still a bit meek when it came to the real life discussions. (Texts notwithstanding, of course.)

 

“I mean Damian can be kind of handsy and I know for a fact he’s got a thing for breasts so-“

 

“OhMyGodStop!” she squeaked, voice muffled behind her hands.

 

He only felt marginally bad; she’d said worse things to him.

 

“I’ll stop on one condition.”

 

She tilted her head up at him and peaked from behind her fingers.

 

“What?”

 

He pried her hands away from her face and looked her in the eye.

 

“You have to go on a date with us.”

 

Instead of looking embarrassed or surprised, as he’d expected, she looked weary.

 

“Will Lian be there?” she asked hesitantly.

 

He felt a wave of horror wash over him and shook his head.

 

“No! Of course not. Just us, Ro. Just us.”

 

 _Now_ she blushed. He liked that response so much better.

 

“We can just go see a movie?”

 

She was trying to turn it into an outing between friends and he needed her to understand that he _wanted_ it to be a date, and Damian did too.

 

“I mean I guess if you’re willing to risk being with Damian unattended in a dark theater but-“

 

“ _Tim!_ _”_

“We’ll go out to lunch tomorrow, on a date. Just the three of us? Please, Rowan?”

When she screwed up her face in a rather ugly expression, he knew he had her.

 

“Fine..”

 

Because he had a feeling she still didn’t believe he wanted her, and because he could, he bent forward and brushed his lips across her cheek. Her skin was hot beneath his lips, and when he pulled back he was sure she was close to passing out.

 

“Thank you,” he said, meaning it with everything he had.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Later, when Dick found his two youngest brothers on the couch he could hardly contain himself.

 

Damian had hardly said a word in all the time he’d been back, not to him, not to _anyone._ He hadn’t spoken, he hadn’t gotten out of bed, and he had hardly eaten.

 

Dick had been terrified, and angry at Talia for doing this to her son, to his family. He’d been angry, but mostly scared.

 

Scared because after everything they’d gone through, Damian had refused to let him in when he needed him most.

 

But now Damian was on the couch, as if nothing had happened and Dick was close to tears.

 

Before anyone could stop him, he’d engulfed Damian in a hug and squeezed, swearing to himself that he’d never let go. He’d never let his brother fall again.

 

Damian growled, and Dick wanted to laugh even as tears filled his eyes.

 

“You’re back?” he asked, trying to keep his voice clear.

 

Beside him, Tim grinned.

 

“Tt. I never left. Move before you wake her up.”

 

Mind beginning to move away from his initial shock and happiness, Dick took in the fact that there was, in fact, a girl draped over both Tim and Damian.

 

Eyes widening in shock, Dick’s mouth dropped open. Her frizzy hair and freckled face looked oddly familiar…

 

“Is that?”

 

“Rowan?” Tim but in.

 

Dick straightened up and took in the way she was situated in the middle of the couch, shoulder wedged into Damian’s side and feet tucked under Tim’s legs.

 

“How long has she been here?”

 

“Well,” Damian drawled,” what time is it?”

 

Dick checked his watch.

 

“It’s 7:18.”

 

“She’s been here for a little over 15 hours, then.”

 

Dick opened his mouth to say something, then decided better of it.

At the moment, he just wanted to enjoy the fact that Damian was _out of his room._

 

He was still going to have to have a _talk_ with Damian later.

 

A moment later, he saw Tim reach over and tuck a lock of Rowan’s hair behind her ear and decided that Tim needed to be included in this talk.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

**Im. So. Tired.  So fluff happens soon. You know, when Im not tired.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Once again, skip to the bottom of the bold if you don’t want to read BS. Hopefully this is the last one. Im so, so sorry for all of this guys, thank you for sticking with me.**

**Okay so I haven’t gotten any hate here, which gives me hope for the world, but on ff . net I got some bullshit. But since I posted this there, I figured I might as well be equal on all sites.**

**Cool so I received these lovely emails today after my last class ended :**

**AvariceN'Spice,**

**A new guest review has been posted to your story. Please login to moderate this review.**

**Story: Multifarious**

**Chapter: 19. Chapter 19**

**From: Guest**

**\-------------------**

**:U KNO WHT UR THE B*** HERE. U STOLE MARSHMELLOWTIMES STORY. UR THE THIEF. GO F*** & DELETE THS STUPID STORY.**

**\-------------------**

**Do not reply to this email.**

**A new guest review has been posted to your story. Please login to moderate this review.**

**Story: Multifarious**

**Chapter: 17. Chapter 17**

**From: u.a.whore (Guest)**

**\-------------------**

**u.a.w***:U r srusly th e worsst fan fiction writer evr omf u steel storis and blame marshmellowtime. U r a stupid theif. Dlt this now or I will reprot u an gt this dlted.**

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**Story: Multifarious**

**Chapter: 17. Chapter 17**

**From: THEIF (Guest)**

**\-------------------**

**THEIF:Marsh told me YOU stole HER fic and that YOU changed sweet little Pandora into a black stupid s***.**

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**Do not reply to this email.**

**A new guest review has been posted to your story. Please login to moderate this review.**  
  
Story: Multifarious  
Chapter: 17. Chapter 17  
  
From: weprotectmarsh (Guest)  
\-------------------  
  
weprotectmarsh:You are one stupid c*** who only steals peoples stories. You need to delete this now or so help me. We have connections.

****  
\-------------------  
Do not reply to this email.

**Uh, I'm not sure what to say to this? I mean my amusement knows no end, so excuse me as I attempt to wade through my mirth. I’m assuming from the immaturity here, this was posted by a 10 year old? If not, then I pity the future of this world. Actually, I take that back. Many of you have been supportive to both me and Marshmallowtime without being hurtful to either of us.**

**Now, just to make things clear, I've cleared the air with Marhsmallowtime. I'm not mad at them, they're not mad at me. The only ones who are still dragging the issue are the reviewers. Many people have gone on her story and reviewed sending her support, which is actually quite lovely. What _isn't_ lovely is that for most, their support comes in the from of telling her I overreacted, saying she did nothing wrong, and saying how her story is better and so on. See that? That right there isn't okay. I talked, she talked, we came to an understanding. **

**Marshmallow apologized, acknowledged what they did wrong (yes after some misunderstanding, and various ANs), and edited their story. We worked through it, but forgiveness does not excuse a wrong. Plagiarism happened, it was resolved. Whether you like my story are not is up to you, but you don't get avoid the issue.**

**THEN,there are the reviews like the ones above that I've posted. For some reason,[FF.net](http://FF.net) doesn't like to post anon reviews until days after I've received hem, but I still do get the email and content of the review. See, I understand fury, I understands hurt, what I don't understand is shit like that. Yes I said _shit._ I said it because it's vulgar, unnecessary, and exact the word needed to describe reviews like that. There is no substance there, no argument, no fact. Only badly worded accusations and demands that have absolutely no foundation. **

**I did nothing wrong. Marshmallow did. Marshmallow apologized. Marshmallow edited the content to appropriate levels. (Which is another point. Most reviewers are comparing the edited content to what I have now, that is of my own work. The original writings of Marshmallow where much the same as mine in certain areas. She changed them, so now it is different. Do not look at parts of the situation without first having analyzed the whole. If you can not do so, back away and keep your opinion to yourself.)**

**It is done, feelings where hurt, and no one has the right to come after me for this.**

**Now with that said, if you just HAVE to make your feelings known, say them to _me_ about _me_. Not my sexual habits. And certainly not my ethnicity, but me. **

**Those things did not write this story. Those things where not hurt by the plagiarism.**

**Calling me a whore, slut, and whatever else is completely unfounded.**

**Calling _Rowan_ a slut is even worse, because my character has nothing to do with this. _Bringing her motherfucking ethnicity into this, however, pisses me the. Fuck. Off. Whoever you are, wherever you are, you are damn lucky you went on anon. Calling her a 'black slut' is racist, sexist, and completely unquestionably ignorant. The world has already condemned what they do not define as desirable to forever be inadequate. You. Do. Not. Get. To. Bring. That. Hate. Into. My. Story._**

****

**_ Multifarious is a safe place for all genders, sexualities,romantic orientations, religions, ethnicities; body types, and personalities. Everyone is welcome here; and no one will ever ruin that. If you think you get to bring ignorance like that anywhere near Multifarious without it being addressed, you. Are. Dead. Wrong. _ **

**__ **

**With that said, I’m sorry to everyone affected by this. I’m sorry emotions where riled, but I’m not sorry for calling Marshmallowtime out. Every action has a consequence, and that is the moral of the story here.**

**Thank you to everyone who cares, and even those that don’t.**

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

At the moment, Tim was having a really hard time putting theory to practice because the idea of taking a 14 year old out on a date just wasn't appealing to him.

 

It wasn't that he didn't like Rowan; it wasn't that at all. It was more that he was already 17 and she’d _just_ turned 14 not a few weeks previous.

 

Damian was one thing; he was 15 and still close enough to Rowan that it wouldn't be weird for him to take her out. _He_ on the other hand, was 17 and even if they were Soul Mates and most age laws shifted for them, he still knew he'd get some looks.

 

It didn't help that Rowan _looked_ young either. To be fair, she was more developed in certain areas so it was true that when she dressed in certain ways, she appeared older. For the most part, however, Rowan's rounded features and freckles made it look like he was preying on an unsuspecting kid.

 

No one would see the years of friendship between them. No one would see the bond, the dynamic. All they would see were three people at clashing stages in their teenaged years and think _wrong._

 

He knew the truth, and yet he could see the opposite side of the argument and it got to him. He knew Rowan understood he wasn't trying to do anything wrong. He knew, and yet he was still apprehensive.

 

Of course when he and Damian went to pick Rowan up, all of his worry vanished under the assault of Rowan's nervous countenance.

 

 _'She's more important than a stupid age difference,'_ he justified.

 

Besides, when she was a little older the difference would cease to be an issue. (Secretly, he still thought Damian lucky that his difference was not quite as bad.)

 

When they picked her up, Tim could tell how nervous she was because not only was she actually waiting for them to pick her up in the café, but she also had her hair down and one of her largest sweatshirts on.

 

She tended to hunch into her clothes when she got nervous, and if she was wearing one of her largest ones there was a chance she was trying to hide from them. Granted the sweatshirt _was_ one of his old ones, but still. Having her hair down was the biggest sign, however, because it meant that she anticipated having to hide her face from them all day. He liked seeing the riot of curls around her face, but not if it meant she was uncomfortable being around them.

 

Nudging Damian, who had decided to more or less stare at her, he moved forward.

 

She was bent over her phone, so she hadn’t noticed them yet. Taking this as yet another bad sign, he decided to at least try and see if Damian was willing to work with him.

 

“Look,” he whispered into the younger boy’s ear,” you know how she is. Just try not to overwhelm her, okay?”

 

Damian paused to give him a calculating expression before stopping completely. Tim glanced quickly towards Rowan, taking note that she was still completely entranced in her phone when Damian pulled him in closer.

 

“I thought you said she agreed to this?” he asked sharply.

 

Tim took in his tone, stance, and the grip on his arm and decided that if he wasn’t careful, the day was going to end in disaster. Convincing Damian to leave the house hadn’t been half as hard as he thought it would be, but it still hadn’t exactly been simple.

 

After Rowan had gone home, the entire family had seemed to pour out of nowhere and crowd Damian. From that alone, Tim had assumed someone had known Rowan was there, and had gotten everyone else to leave them alone.

 

It had been around 9 am then, and Tim had been surprised that everyone was even _awake._ While Alfred had the uncanny ability to be wherever he was needed and Bruce hadn’t really been sleeping, everyone else had still been patrolling, and so usually slept until about noon.

 

Though they’d been careful after what had happened the first time, someone still asked the inevitable: what had _really_ happened.

 

It had been Barbara, worry evident in her tone and care obvious. She’d tried to tread carefully, but Damian had still snapped at her. The night had ended with everyone agreeing to just be happy Damian was back, and Tim wondering if Damian even _knew_ what had happened.

 

Sure he’d been up and out of his bed, but he’d been… Different, more reserved. He’d disappeared with Bruce for hours before Tim finally found him in the training room absolutely annihilating a punching bag.

 

He’d only stopped when Tim had shouted that they had a date with Rowan. Damian had only stopped to ask how and when before going to change.

 

Now that they were nearly at their goal, however, Tim was worried that maybe he hadn’t told Damian enough, that maybe he’d taken the boy out of the house too soon. He’d texted Rowan telling her they’d pick her up at 3, but Tim thought that perhaps he should have changed that date to later on in the month.

 

“She did,” Tim said carefully, deciding that now wasn’t the best time to divulge the entire story,” but you know how she is.”

 

Green eyes stared into his for a moment more before abruptly tearing away. Tim could only hope that this would all work out as he watched Rowan jump when Damian laid a hand on her shoulder.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Damian couldn’t help but flinch when wide, startled brown eyes stared up at him.

 

He knew she was more surprised than anything but _god-_

“Hey, Damian,” a soft voice whispered, and any sour thoughts he’d had vanished.

 

After spending the better part of his first day awake being interrogated by his Father after apparently being  in a semi coma for days, Damian figured that he deserved to at least do something for himself. He was done talking about things he didn’t remember (Things he didn’t _want_ to remember).

 

 He’d been still for days, and so when Tim told him they had a date with Rowan, he jumped at the chance. Second guessing himself was what had screwed him over in the first place; he’d figured that out after going over what had happened with his Father.

 

He wouldn’t make that mistake again. He’d… Entertained certain thoughts about Rowan before; nothing too explicit, but they’d been thoughts none the less. He’d ignored them then, however, pushed them back. He’d given himself a thousand reasons to justify why pursuing her was wrong, why he shouldn’t do it. In the end, however, he knew that it had just been a coward’s tactic.

 

Rowan was young, weak, and nothing he’d ever wanted.

 

But she had strength in her fragility, and surprised him with the rare show of wit beyond her years. She was too forgiving, too small, too careless… But she was Rowan.

 

She was Rowan, and no matter what she’d always been just that. No matter what, she’d always been there for Tim; for him. She’d been there, and the fact of the matter was that he could never imagine her _gone._

 

 _‘Perhaps,’_ he thought, _‘that is why she’s mine.’_

And she was. His, that is. She was his Soul Mate, as was Tim, and he wouldn’t make the mistake of second guessing himself. Not this time.

 

“Hello, Rowan.”

 

The shy smile she gave him was sincere, and for the first time in a while, he gave her one in return.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Seeing the tired eyes of the boy in front of her light up warmed Rowan to her core, and when she stood she had the urge to give him the tightest hug she could manage.

 

Then she remembered what they were supposed to be doing, and she wanted to go burry her head in a hole. She’d been pretty damn close when she’d been browsing through Tumblr on her phone, as she hadn’t noticed either of the boys come in until a large hand had fell on her shoulder.

 

Shuffling awkwardly, she took a step back and tried to smile at Tim. He gave her one of his own wide smiles back, and she wanted to apologize because she knew she probably looked like she was grimacing at the moment.

 

_‘Oh my gosh I can’t believe I’m doing this.’_

 “Hey, Rowan. Decide where you want to go yet?”

 

_“Uh..”_

 

_‘Hell, no.’_

He’d texted her earlier, asking where she’d like to go for a late lunch. Truthfully, after washing and combing through her hair, she’d found that she hadn’t had much of an appetite at all. She _still_ didn’t, and so she had no answer for him.

 

“I’ll take that as a no,” Damian said in his familiar drawl, and though it was haughty it made her happy.

 

  _‘He’s back.’_

 

She just shrugged, and tangled her fingers in her bracelets. The action pushed up her sleeves slightly, and Tim shot her a look. She ignored him, knowing she _may_ have gone overboard with the multitude of braided twine and various other materials around her wrist.

 

“Are you trying to advertise you wares, or?” Tim asked jokingly, obviously referencing her many bracelets.

 

“Like anyone would buy such rudimentary jewelry,” Damian added on.

 

She narrowed her eyes and smacked the green eyed boy on the arm.

 

“ _You’re_ wearing one,” she pointed out, heart warming slightly at the sight of Damian’s own wrist.

 

He was, in fact, wearing what appeared to be the first bracelet she’d ever given him. It was old, slightly discolored, and slightly frayed at this point, but he was _wearing_ it. The knowledge made her cheeks heat, and she shook her head.

 

Unlike her, however, Damian was not at all embarrassed at her assessment of his jewelry.

 

“And your point is? Have you decided on where you want to eat or not?”

 

He wasn’t acting any different then he normally would, and that soothed her.

 

“No,” she told him truthfully.

 

Damian rolled his eyes, but didn’t appear to be truly irritated, while Tim seemed completely unfazed.

 

“That’s fine. We don’t have to eat if you don’t want to. We can do something else for our date.”

 

And there was that _dreadful_ word again to ruin any nerves she’d managed to reign in. She tried her best to hide her face behind her hair as it, once again, decided to steal all the heat from the rest of her body.

 

“I dunno?” she murmured, and tried not to flinch when Damian moved closer to her.

 

To her horror, he appeared to have detected the slight tremor and moved away.

 

She really, _really_ didn’t want them to get the wrong idea and so she quickly ran through everything she could think of, given that she’d never _actually_ been on a date.

 

_‘Food’s out because I don’t think I can even eat, which is like a sin or something, fuck. Movie’s out because of the thing that shall not be thought of, park’s probably not date like enough, ice skating we did that one time so I don’t think they’d be into it. Roller skating? Too close to ice skating?’_

Damian was beginning to look impatient, and so she tried to think more quickly. Also her Gran, who had already been questioning her about wanting to go out with Tim and Damian two days in a row, was starting to glance at them way too often.

 

The previous day had been Friday, and after school she’d gone home expecting to rest. Instead, she’d spent the evening on an emotional roller-coaster, and the current day was shaping up to be much of the same.

 

 _‘Amusement park is out because that’s way too many people; the boardwalk is out for the same reason. Mini golf is-‘_ she paused because her bracelets had twisted too far around her fingers, and she could no longer move them.

 

Tim looked ready to reach out and disentangle her fingers for her and so she blurted out the only thing that wasn’t too private, too public, or inappropriate for the occasion.

 

“Mini golf!”

 

She regretted it as soon as she said it, and it looked like the boys did too.

 

She didn’t want to go through the humiliation of taking it back though, so she shook her head yes when Tim asked if she was sure.

 

They left shortly after, Damian looking at her all the while like she was the biggest idiot she’d ever seen.

 

She wanted to look back and grin because maybe she was an idiot but he was the one who decided to keep her around.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

The car ride was awkward, but through it all Rowan decided one thing: if she had anything to say about it, the mini golf would _not_ be.

 

So when they got to the nearest mini golf place, which was in the richer part of Gotham because no self-respecting middle or lower class person would ever pursue a serious game of mini golf, Rowan took her club, took her ball, and went in with all the determination she could muster.

 

Then she lost it when, with a perfectly unamused visage, Damian hit the ball into the hole on his first shot.

 

Tim grinned at him and told him good job, but all Rowan could do was gape.

 

_‘God damn, boy couldn’t be bad at one thing?’_

She managed to pull herself together when Tim didn’t get it in on the first try.

 

“Okay, so this is actually harder then it looks,” he laughed when he passed her by.

 

The laughed soothed her, but also gave her an idea. When she took her turn, she didn’t bother to look at Damian and instead tried to swing… And missed. It wasn’t on purpose, but it happened and so because she could, and because none of them wanted to be there anyway, she kicked the ball.

 

“Rowan, _really_?” Tim laughed behind her, at the same time Damian said “That is _not_ what you’re supposed to do.”

 

The ball didn’t go too far, but it still did manage to make it over the little bridge and around the same place Tim’s had. She figured it was a pretty good kick, and so she turned around and shrugged. She could play seriously later, for now she wanted to mess around and enjoy herself.

 

The fact that Tim joined her game on his next turn while Damian became even _more_ irritated just made her happier.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Later, when she was thinking a little more clearly, she realized that maybe things couldn't go back to the way they were, she knew that now. But maybe, if she was lucky, things could be better.

 

As she watched Damian line up his shot, then sink yet _another_ hole in one, she thought that _maybe,_ they'd somehow always been there. The closeness had come naturally to her, so maybe it was just time for her to finally open up.

 

She'd missed them, more than she'd ever care to admit, and she wasn't too keen on losing their companionship anytime soon. If that meant she had to put a little more faith in them and simply trust that they wouldn't let her make a fool of herself, then so be it.

 

She found that life was more fun with their brand of crazy anyway.

 

Sighing, she watched as Tim shoved Damian after the younger boy said something particularly nasty because it had taken Tim three hits to sink the ball.

 

"You know, if you weren't such an ass this would be a lot more fun," Tim pointed out.

 

"If you two were more competent, this would be a lot more _tolerable,"_ Damian shot back.

 

Unamused, she pushed between them.

 

She lined up her shot, adjusted her swing-

 

-and completely missed. The ball went nowhere _near_ the hole and she was astounded.  She’d managed to get it off course and into some nearby turf, but she thought she’d at least be able to get it back near the hole.

 

Ignoring an offhanded comment by Damian and some choking laughter from Tim, she moved to where her ball was and lined up another swing.

 

She missed again, watching as the ball hit a strategically placed barrier.

 

 _Then_ she got irritated. In the beginning she hadn't been able to get the ball anywhere near the hole, but now that she was trying she _still_ wasn't hitting anywhere close.

 

Tim looked more amused than anything, but Damian looked slightly smug and it was frustrating as hell. Sure it was mini golf, but she figured that after eight swings, she should have gotten it close at least _once._

 

 _'What the heck man, damn,' s_ he thought as she brought her club up and stood as she would have had she been holding a baseball bat; middle against the back of her neck, hands gripping either end, and feet spread with her back straight.

 

She probably looked ready to beat someone down, and the thought pleased her. If the golf course was a person, she hoped it would feel threatened.

_'If it was a person I would have socked it for being so damn difficult.'_

"So are you going to continue missing, or are you planning on sinking the ball anytime soon?" Damian inquired.

 

That earned him a glare, and she stuck her tongue out at him before swinging the club away from her shoulders and back into a proper grip. If she wanted to move on to the next hole, she was really going to need to stop using the thing like a bat.

 

Her ball was, of course, stuck right up against a corner. She refused to pick it up and walk it over to the hole like she'd done at first because damn it all, she wanted to do it the proper way for at least the last few holes.

 

It looked like those last few holes where going to take longer than the first eleven at this point.

 

 

When she _finally_ got her golf ball in the hole, Damian was still smirking at her, and so she crossed her arms when they reached the next hole and decided that she was going to stand next to Tim.

 

"Not everyone is good at everything you know," she murmured in Damian's general direction, not expecting him to hear her.

 

Tim laughed, and the sound made her smile.

 

But, because he was Damian, and because he was an ass, he did.

 

"Some of us are, it's a pity you two haven't joined that caste."

 

"Oh my gosh, shush," she gripped, moving closer and smacking him in the arm.

 

He of course, went first, once again using some fancy aim work to get a hole in one. Tim went next, giving her a reassuring smile as he moved. He didn't quite get it, but he was close enough and Damian shot her a smirk when she moved to take her turn.

 

If he didn't watch it, the boy was going to get popped. Again.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Damian just didn't _get it._ By nature, Rowan simply wasn't a particularly competitive person. Even when she'd played baseball, she'd been in it more for the love of the game then actually _winning_ said games. She wasn't competitive, yet here she was glaring at him and gripping her golf club like she was ready to get him with it.

 

To be fair, he knew she probably still had a fair swing.

 

Of course Damian didn't really _mind_ this more standoffish side of Rowan. In fact, he actually enjoyed it. The only other time he'd experienced it, however, was almost three years ago now, when they'd engaged in a game of tag that had taken them halfway through Gotham. To this day he had no idea how she'd managed to trick him into such an inane pass time, nor did he know how she'd managed to get him in the end.

 

Really, that was the first time he'd really acknowledged her worth. After hours of running through streets, alleys, and abandoned buildings, she'd still managed to tag him in the end, out of breath as she was. They'd had to finally head home because the sunset was approaching, and her Mother had been told they were at the park and had given her consent for them to be out until sunset. Beforehand, he'd tagged her last, but the moment he'd dropped her off at home, she'd slapped him in the chest with a 'tag, you're it!' and slammed her door in his face.

 

He'd been so shocked by the behavior that he'd never bothered to pick the game back up (which had definitely _not_ been over because she wasn't going to win if he had anything to say about it.)

 

However it appeared that whatever had sparked her to challenge him last time was back so maybe...

 

"Tag, you're it."

 

She stared at him in confusion for about a minute when his hand landed on her shoulder, but somehow she apparently remembered their previous game because her eyes lit up.

 

" _No,"_ she said, and they both shot off through the mini golf course, Tim following behind them thoroughly confused.

 

On the entire way home, anyone who listened would have heard a string of expletives mixed with joyous laughter.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

That night, Tim found himself lying in bed texting Rowan. She was asking him about a new recipe she wanted to try, and the conversation itself wasn't unusual. It was the feeling that he found to be new, and it warmed him in a way he didn't feel like analyzing.

 

Now, with everything out in the open and the mutual agreement between them, the inane conversation felt more intimate. It was 10 pm and he was talking to his _girlfriend (_ Because he refused to refer to her as his friend.)about flourless cake and that gave him an unnecessarily large amount of satisfaction.

 

Maybe it was the fact that it was a long time coming, or maybe it was because things were finally starting to settle into place again. Whatever it was only increased when Damian slipped into his bed without a word.

 

Tim was exhausted both physically and mentally, and at this point he'd accept anything he could get from Damian. The younger boy's eyes looked haunted when he rolled onto his side, and Tim thought better than to ask. He already knew what it was like to be kept up by nightmares.

 

"Who're you texting?" Damian asked blandly, not even bothering to veil his nosiness.

 

Tim slid his phone farther away from Damian's view and raised an eyebrow.

 

"Why do you need to know?"

 

Damian's eyes narrowed at that, and even in a simple t-shirt and pajama bottoms he managed to look threatening. Really, it was probably the way his muscles flexed in his annoyance that did it. Puberty really _was_ doing wonders for him, and Tim wasn't just saying that because he liked the fact that Damian's shoulder span had doubled and he had an excellent back.

 

Okay so maybe that was nice too. Damian had a thing for his abs, and he knew Rowan was partial to his backside so he felt justified in his perusal of Damian's back muscles.

 

"Why are you such an onerous person?"

 

Tim could only roll his eyes and pass his phone over to Damian.

 

The younger boy quickly read through the texts, speaking as he did so.

 

"You know she's making this for you right?" he asked, obviously referring to the flourless chocolate cake she was thinking of making.

 

"Well," Tim declared," she knows I like chocolate."

 

Damian gave him a lecherous look and snorted.

 

"What was that for?" Tim asked indignantly.

 

Damian's gaze traveled over him in a slow perusal, and Tim only felt mildly bad about the fact that it made his skin tingle.

 

"It's pretty clear you like chocolate, you know considering the obvious," the green eyed boy said, gesturing to the phone with his free hand.

 

Now confused, Tim simply watched as Damian continued to scroll through the messages.

 

"Damian, what are you even talking about?"

 

Damian didn't even bother to look at him as he spoke in a completely even tone.

 

"Come now, you know she's practically guaranteed to taste as sweet as she looks."

 

 _That_ was what it took for the pieces to finally click in Tim's mind.

 

" _Really,_ Damian? You know she'd be pissed if she ever heard you say anything like that."

 

He still didn't look disturbed in the least.

 

"She wouldn't be if you told her about your chocolate fetish and then took a bite."

 

Tim was so shocked that he didn't even bother to move when Damian leaned over, angled his phone, and snapped a photo.

 

It was only after his phone vibrated that Tim figured out that Damian had sent Rowan a picture of them both, and she’d replied.

 

"Damian that is wrong on so many levels," he griped, taking the phone from him.

 

Sure Rowan was just about the color of milk chocolate but that was just... No... Just no.

 

Okay so Damian was probably right she most likely did taste sweet and he didn't think he'd mind-

 

_'Okay nope, no not going there. No.'_

 

He checked her text quickly, and then handed the phone back to Damian so he could reply.

 

'Heeey Damian :p,' was what she'd sent.

 

He fell back into his bed as Damian texted back and forth with Rowan and just let his mind wonder. Eventually, as he watched Damian text their other Soul Mate, he came across one thought:

 

_'This. I don't want to lose **this**.'_

 

_**  
**_

****

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so maybe not what you were expecting, but good, yes? I’ve actually got seven chapters planned, and I’m hoping to get them done by the end of September! A lofty goal, but maybe I can do it?
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway I’m near 100 reviews, and I think the majority of the last few have been a mixture of support and flames, much more if it being support, which I thank you all for. Though this wasn’t how I wanted to reach my first ever 100 reviews, I just wanted to thank you all for letting me hear your thoughts. I appreciate every one of them!
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to Loelle, my Angry Puppy Dog who gave me this idea. She’s an angry mess but she’s got my back at the best of times, in her own, angry ways. She listens to me ramble and actually is the one who gave me the mini golf idea! I asked her for some help with date places and that’s what she gave me and I was like ‘THEY’D ALL HATE IT LETS DO IT’
> 
> Please excuse any errors, but tell me if you see anything major! I try to catch everything major, but sometimes I don’t get the small stuff so please excuse me.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yes here's a shorter chapter. You guys remember these? Usually just fluff and small bits that add on to the plot but no big events? The chapters that help move the plot along but aren't super big events like people friggen dying? Yeah well they're back. We got quite a few coming. But remember peeps, we still get plot important information every now and again from the fluffs ;)

She got one _late_ text.

One _late_ text before the whispering started, one _late_ text before her teachers started gossiping, and one _late_ text before she walked through Gotham Academy's gates and saw a giant crowd milling about for no apparent reason.

She got one _late_ text when Damian, in all of his six foot whatever glory, came back to Gotham Academy.

To say she was surprised when she finally pushed through the not so inconspicuous crowd to see Damian Wayne leaning casually against a wall was an understatement.

He was talking to a willowy brunette girl who had one of the friendliest smiles she’d ever seen. For all the friendliness the girl exuded, however, none of it seemed to faze Damian because he was staring down at his phone even as he apparently carried on a conversation.

As it happened, the moment her phone actually registered the text and vibrated in her pocket was the same moment Damian glanced up and caught her gaze. Mouth suddenly dry, Rowan pulled out her phone and read the text.

‘I’m coming back to school today.’

She stared at it for what was probably longer than necessary before taking in the crowd around her and turning on her heel.

 _‘_ _Oh hell no,_ _’_ she complained internally.

Damian may have been a grade A ass, but he also _had_ a grade A ass. He’d also acquired a clean new haircut, a well-fitting uniform, and the air of sophistication that drew ladder climbers in like bees to honey. The general population could learn what a pain in the ass he was themselves if they didn’t remember what he was like when he’d attended previously. She was perfectly fine with chilling on her own, so she wasn’t about to start fucking with Damian and the posh crowd he’d undoubtedly draw.

She quickly walked to her first class, knowing it would start in about 15 minutes. She always got to school with around 20 to spare, and she wasn’t about to waste any of them wondering how long it would take Damian to attract a posse.

_But we're all soldiers tonight_

Rowan grimaced at the sound of her text tone for Damian, and quickly turned it off before checking the message.

‘Did you just walk away from me?’

She almost texted back ‘no’, but she had the feeling he’d actually call her and start lecturing her about sass.

‘Maybe.’

There, that was good enough.

Her phone had vibrated again by the time she’d manage to make it to her locker to trade out books, so she checked it again as she walked.

‘I know your manners aren’t on par with mine but even I didn’t think you were THAT discourteous. Obviously I have put too much faith in your abilities.”

She rolled her eyes and decided to text back in the way she knew would irritate him the most because really he should know by now that he was too popular for his own good. Damian had a Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, Facebook, Snapchat, and pretty much every other social networking app known to man. It was at odds with how private he appeared to outwardly be, but he liked social networking so she opted to just not question it too hard.

She’d never actually looked at too many of his accounts, but she knew he had amassed a pretty sizable amount of followers. It stood to figure that at least _someone_ would recognize him from online, if not by name alone. If he needed it, which she seriously doubted, there would probably be someone to show him around. If not, then he could come find her later. At the moment, she wasn’t going to risk being caught up in the usual ‘let me go talk to the new kid’ rush.

‘jfc chill bro u were tlking 2 sum1’

Okay so just looking at that irritated her, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made.

‘I know you can spell, and I’d appreciate it if you ceased this absurd ‘text talk’. You know, you could have come and said hello.’

She wasn’t the first to class, but she was among the first six, so she had the pleasure of choosing a nice seat. After situating herself by a window, she decided to just placate him as best as she could.

'Class starts soon, we can talk at lunch okay?'

The 'Fine.' he sent her back made her think he was irritated, but she had a plastic bag with chocolate chip cookies in her pocket, so she figured he'd be okay again after she gave him one.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

When Rowan found him at lunch, he was in the presence of a rather diverse crowd of individuals. Some where the children of the men and women who ran in his Father’s business circles, some knew of him from a few of his more popular social platforms, and some were the wealthy young children of people he had no knowledge of. They all, however, had one thing in common: they irritated him.

When he’d decided to come back to school, it was with the thought in mind that he’d be able to spend his days away from the sorrowful gazes of his family and with Rowan.

 No matter how much he implored that Barbara stopped giving him pitying looks, she still managed to do so. No matter how many times he told Dick to stop asking if he was okay, the young man still found ways. No matter how many times he told his Father that what had happened wasn’t his fault, he still got troubled gazes when his Father thought he wasn’t looking.

He’d gotten sick of it, and so he had decided that coming back to school would be a marginally less atrocious waste of his time. In fact, he was using his school hours as a way increase his social interaction, which would undoubtedly please his family, and cement his role in Rowan’s life more thoroughly.

He knew she’d always thought of him as a friend, but now he was more. _They_ were more. If he wasn’t careful, she would end up ignoring the advancing part of their relationship, and bypass it altogether. Not many people noticed that Rowan tended to handle her problems in that way, but it had become evident to him over the years.

At the moment, the idea of dating him and Tim distressed her, and she’d push it back if they let her. If he had his way, she’d never forget. Hence, he’d returned to the rudimentary schooling institution.

He hadn’t gotten them put in the same classes for two reasons. The first was that though she was ahead, he was still technically in the appropriate age group for the grade ahead of her. The second was that he was not inclined to distract her from his studies. Being together in the same room was guaranteed to be a distraction… For them both.

So he’d rationalized that they’d have the spaces in between, never foreseeing the current situation.

She’d all but _ran_ from him, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t felt a little stung by the obvious rejection of his presence. In fact, he’d spent the better part of his first few classes in a fowl mood before he realized why she’d run.

Actually, he realized the moment he tried to step out of the classroom for lunch break and had ten different offers for seating arrangements. His classmates were annoying as hell, and he knew Rowan had dodged the proverbial bullet. He’d declined them all, but still somehow found himself surrounded by the chatter of idiots that couldn’t see that he absolutely wanted nothing to do with them.

Well, maybe a few of them. They could be good future investments because of their parents, but the current time was not suitable for him to be networking. No, instead he should have been spending time with his Soul Mate trying to get her used to the idea of being more than friends.

After yet _another_ female asked him if he was seeing anyone, Damian decided to speed things up and just text his diffident girlfriend. (And she was most definitely his girlfriend. They’d spent nearly six years around each other; they didn’t need the formality of excessive courting.)

So, when Rowan found him, he was sure the first thing she saw were the multitude of people. He was sure because instead of coming to him, she texted him from halfway across the room and told him to meet her on the grassy spot behind the science building.

"I have someone to meet, so if you'll excuse me," he said rather loudly to the general populace.

He was sure someone had been talking to him, but he didn't really care and so simply walked away. He'd announced his departure, if they where offended it was their fault.

Unfortunately, however, it looked like not all of them had gotten the hint because when he left the cafeteria, there was still someone trailing behind him. He glanced back to see blonde hair and brown eyes and his mind helpfully supplied him with the name 'Jonathan'.

He slowed only to pin the boy with his gaze and quirked his eyebrow.

"is there something you'd like to say?"

The teen shook his head and did his best to catch up.

"I just wanted to offer you any help in case you needed someone to show you around!"

"Tt. I don't need it," Damian stated, and then promptly ignored the other boy until he'd reached his destination.

He hadn't come into contact with the boy during his first stint at Gotham Academy, and so he could understand the reasoning behind the constant bogus of 'helpfulness'.

That didn't mean he had to appreciate the unneeded effort.

Damian only bothered to register the blonde's chatter when they were approaching his destination.

“Is that who you’re meeting?” Jonathan asked as they _finally_ neared the science building.

Damian had thought the West’s talked fast, but he was one hundred percent sure the teen walking beside him could give the entire West family a run for their money.

Sighing, he gave the shorter boy a pointed look and put some space between them.

“Yes,” he stated simply, noticing how Rowan perked up at the site of him.

For once, it appeared she’d been paying attention to her surroundings. When he was close enough, she stood up from where she’d been situated on the ground and dusted off the back of her skirt. The majority of the girls he’d seen tended to favor shorter styles, but he had seen quite a few who seemed to prefer the longer choice. Rowan was one of them, and he had no doubt that it was because she was wearing shorts under her uniform.

When he stopped in front of her, she gave him a nervous smile with her hands fisted in her skirt, and it took him a moment to realize it was because Jonathan was still with him.

“Do you actually require something?” Damian finally snapped, turning towards the boy with a glare.

“Just wanted to meet your friend,” he said with a shrug.

“She’s my _girlfriend_ ,” Damian said for the simple reason that he _could._

Rowan turned an amazingly vivid red and Damian knew he’d made the right decision. The good humor that brought him, however, was quickly extinguished by Jonathan’s laughter.

“What the hell’s so funny?” he barked.

Rowan had gone from embarrassed to something more, and she was no longer looking at them. Instead, she’d stuffed her hands into her blazer pockets and was pulling the garment tightly around her body.

Evidently realizing that Damian hadn’t been joking after an elongated silence from both he and Rowan, Jonathan finally stopped laughing and settled awkwardly. He looked between the two of them quickly, and threw his hands up in defense.

“Oh, uh. Sorry. I’m just gonna go…”

Damian made sure to glare as the other boy left, and continued to do so until he was out of sight. After that, he took a seat on a nearby ledge.

He had no idea what she was thinking, but whatever it was needed to stop.

He’d seen Tim calm her enough times with a touch, and the thought _did_ appeal to him, so instead of speaking he reached out and pulled her towards him by her hips.

Her eyes widened but she said nothing when he settled her between his legs. Instead of letting her go, he spread his palms wide and slid them up until they settled at her waist.

Truly he’d meant it in all innocence, but at such close quarters he could feel the curves of her body, so much different than either his or Tim’s.

He looked up at her face, studying the light blush there and the confusion in her gaze. She’d shivered when he’d moved his hands, and the reaction had the beginnings a dangerous heat building within him. Despite his first impulse to lean in closer and push her just a little farther, he knew better. From the look on her face, she probably hadn’t wanted him to feel what he had.

He’d touched her sides before, but never like this. Her sides had always been a sensitive spot for her so she’d guarded them closely, always squirming out of his grasp. But now…

_‘Fuck._ _’_

Her hands came up from her sides to rest on his, and he let her work her fingertips between the gaps in his.

“Damian? What are you doing?”

“Studying you,” he answered truthfully.

She was like a puzzle box whose pieces he didn’t quite understand, and he hated the feeling of inadequacy that brought. He knew, however, that if he was patient enough, and didn’t mind going down a few wrong paths, everything would eventually fall into place.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

She hadn’t wanted to dwell on the implications of his statement, so instead she asked him a very different question.

“Why did you come back to school?”

His fingers flexed slightly at her waist, and she ignored the feeling. He wasn’t exactly timid, but he was heartbreakingly solemn in a way only he could be when he spoke next.

“I needed a break.”

Whether he meant a break from being a hero 24/7, his family, or something else entirely was of no consequence to Rowan. All that mattered was that Damian wasn’t as strong as he liked to pretend to be, and if he needed a break she wouldn’t fault him for it.

So she didn’t change her expression, she didn’t read into it, nor did she speak. She simply reached into the plastic bag in her pocket, broke off a piece of her cookie, shoved it at him, and watched with a half-smile as he tried to steal the rest of her sweets.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAHAHA IM SO TIRED AND I HAVE SO MUCH WORK
> 
> Okay guys I’m sorry but i. have. Been. So. Busy.
> 
> Fuck so busy damn. I literally wrote this instead of starting an essay I have due on Monday? Aren’t my priorities great? Okay but no really, I needed some detox time from school, this helps.
> 
> My birthday was on September 9th, and everything surrounding it was just so stressful… But I did get a new laptop, so hooray! First post from new laptop at 12 am, lol. Enjoy, and tell me what you think. I really appreciate and enjoy reviews! Sorry about any typos, I haven’t slept properly in like two weeks :’)

They fall back into each other easily, and for a moment Rowan could imagine it was like they never left. 

 

At least, she could if she ignored the marked differences.

 

Damian came over less, but he made up for it by calling and texting more. Tim stayed in town for once, but made an effort to spend more time with Damian and come by the shop at least every weekend.

 

It was less than before in some respects, and more in others, so it all balanced out. It balanced in a way that made her miss Damian’s nightly visits, but look forward to seeing Tim seated in the shop with a tablet in his hand and a smile that she liked to think was for her. It balanced in a way that made her miss 2 am texts from Tim about everything and nothing, but adore pictures of Titus in the middle of her day from Damian.

 

It left her wanting and satisfied all at once, and because she couldn’t quite understand how that was even possible, she let it go.

 

Well, she tried.

 

It was only about a month after the aggressive game of tag (She wouldn’t call it a date because really, it was an _aggressive game of tag holy fuck she hadn’t remembered Gotham had so many alleys to run down.)_ that she found herself lying in her bed in the middle of the night and feeling oddly lonely because even though the boys where in Gotham, they still felt too far away because they weren't with _her._ The thought made her cheeks heat, and she covered her face with one hand.

_'I am so stupid.'_

Groaning, she turned in her bed and reached for the nearest snack, which ended up being a bag of mini Oreos. She looked at them, thought about it, and then decided that shoving them all in her mouth wasn't how she was going to treat the delightful little cookies. By the time she had one open and the cream part down on her tongue, her phone was going off.

 

She pulled her previously outstretched tongue back into her mouth and chewed, pulling up her phone. She knew without checking that it would be Damian, or Damian on Tim's phone. Though he tended not to come and stay the night any more, he'd begun to text and FaceTime her more often.

 

She ignored the way her heart skipped a beat when she answered the video call and Damian's shadowed face appeared.

 

"Sitting in the dark?" she inquired around the other half of the tiny cookie.

 

Instead of Damian answering, Tim's irritated one greeted her from off screen.

 

" _Some_ of us are actually trying to sleep," he grumbled.

 

Laughing softly, Rowan opened up another cookie and licked the frosting off as she watched a verbal battle evolve into a slight scuffle on the other side of the screen. When the entire picture shook and fell, Rowan had to smother her laughter before her Mama or Gran heard her.

 

"Everything okay?"

 

Really, she was trying her hardest not to choke on cookie bits.

 

There was a grunt that sounded like it came from Damian, before the previously fallen phone was picked up and she was met with Tim's pale face. His blue eyes looked tired, and the light from the phone damn near reflected off of his milky skin.

 

That just made her laugh harder.

 

"What?"

 

Shaking her head, Rowan brushed cookie crumbs off of her chest and sat up, shifting when she felt some fall down her tank top. She usually hated wearing tank tops because food _always_ ended up between her boobs, but it was hot and muggy so she’d opted for cooler sleep wear.

 

"You're positively glowing," she told him, all the while reaching for another cookie.

 

Tim's face immediately screwed up into a grimace, and Rowan grinned at him.

 

The screen moved again, only this time out and Rowan realized Damian had taken back the phone. With the new position, Rowan could see that Damian had all but trapped Tim against his bare chest in a loose sort of head lock, the older boy not even bothering to try and wiggle out.

 

The sight made her grin harder, and she resisted the urge to coo at them. They'd both probably be annoyed at her.

 

"Our boyfriend wasn't blessed with appropriate genes, and so he's doomed to roam the world lacking melanin. Don't tease him for his disabilities, Rowan," Damian chided in a condescending tone.

 

"Like you're much better you hypocritical ass," Tim snapped back.

 

Damian replied something in another language that Rowan didn't understand, but Tim evidently did if the way his eyes widened and his mouth snapped shut where any indication.

 

Going in for another Oreo, Rowan raised her eyebrow in question as both boys brought their gazes back to her. She felt mildly uncomfortable when she went to lick the filling out of her cookie, and both boys watched her instead of answering.

 

Completely bypassing Damian's catty words, Rowan quickly finished her cookie and tried not to laugh at them.

 

"You know these are just Oreos right?"

 

Both boys seemed to snap out of whatever trance they'd been in, and Rowan rolled her eyes at them.

 

"What?" Tim asked quickly.

 

Holding her bag of Oreos in front of her phone, she spoke in a matter of fact tone, “My cookies? They're just mini Oreos. I'm sure Alfred can make you something better in the morning if you ask. Unless you feel like coming to the bakery, of course."

 

Really, she knew they'd been eyeing her treat; they didn't have to play dumb.

 

"That's not-" Damian began, but was quickly cut off by Tim.

 

"-You're right! We'll probably come by tomorrow, right Damian?"

 

The blue eyed boy shot Damian a sharp gaze that had Rowan thinking there was something more going on there. Her suspicions rose when Damian tried to say something and Tim cut him off again, snatching the phone and making the entire picture blurry.

 

"Well, we should probably go to sleep, night Ro."

 

Then the screen was black, and she was left in the company of her Oreos once more.

 

_'Weird ass boys.'_

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

Tim didn’t actually get a chance to go to the bakery the next day, nor did Damian. When he’d said that, it had been more to distract Rowan from the fact that watching her lick cream out of an Oreo had done some odd things. He’d completely forgotten that he and Damian where supposed to be going in to the office with Bruce.

 

While Bruce hadn’t exactly been drowning in work, he’d still sent them to some of his meetings and various other engagements to save time. He’d justified it, saying ‘His sons deserved the experience’.

 

That was bull and they all knew it because Damian could probably run the company in his sleep, and Tim wasn’t half bad at handling finances either.

 

They’d all split from each other to do various tasks, only stopping to have lunch before heading back. Tim had texted Rowan during their break, but apparently she’d already known they weren’t going to come because Damian had been texting her in the hours previous. How Damian had found the time amidst all the board meetings, he’d never know.

 

He certainly hadn’t had the time while negotiating new mergers.

 

He hadn’t felt bad, however because he’d made the effort to visit Rowan as often as possible lately. Granted, he spent most of their time together sitting in the shop eating treats while working off of his tablet while Rowan restocked and tended to customers. Though Damian had his own hand in the company’s comings and goings, it was Tim who really had any power on paper. Damian was still technically in school, and so wasn’t made an official part of the company yet. Tim, on the other hand, handled much of the day to day happenings.

 

He’d always had a head for business, and with Dick doing his own thing, it had fallen on him to do his part.

 

Really, he didn’t mind it, and he was glad Rowan didn’t seem to either. When he was in the shop, she tended to leave him be for the most part and periodically bring him different bits of food and drinks. She’d stop and lean over his shoulder to see what he was doing, or do homework at the table with him. When she felt like it she’d talk with him, but for the most part it the anything and he could work from his room if he wanted.

 

Rose had only commented on his presence once, and had given him a sly smile when he’d responded by saying that he enjoyed the ambiance of her shop. From that alone he figured she’d probably gathered what was going on, but hadn’t commented on it yet. He was glad because he knew as soon as Rowan’s Mom found out about them, he was probably going to die a horrible, horrible death.

 

By the time the business day was over, it was time to patrol and Tim hardly had time to shower before he was in costume and out in Gotham’s gloomy streets. Really, he had no idea why he’d even bothered to shower because he knew he was just going to be disgusting by the end of the night. Maybe it was because the hot water gave him a moment of peace and a chance to think, and think is what he did.

 

As she seemed to do more and more lately, Rowan drifted into his mind.

 

She’d seemed happy every time he went to see her, but he couldn’t help thinking that she didn’t quite understand that he and Damian really _were_ all in.

 

Then there was Damian, who was a whole other topic. Damian was… Complicated. Which wasn’t to say Rowan wasn’t, it was just Damian was the one who’d started to crawl into his bed every night with no explanation. Even worse was that he was always gone when Tim inevitably drifted off from exhaustion.

 

From that behavior alone, Tim could tell that Damian wasn’t sleeping. The green eyed boy wasn’t like Rowan, he’d never had insomnia, and Tim didn’t think he’d developed it either. No, Tim was sure Damian was having nightmares, and he was worried because he had no idea how to help.

 

Damian wouldn’t talk about what had happened, and had hardly even acknowledged anything had occurred at all. Tim knew if he asked, or even approached it that he’d get nothing but a hard kick for his efforts, so he came up with a plan.

 

He knew Damian had gone to Rowan’s after patrol many nights in the past, and he knew that Damian had stopped now to seek comfort in his bed. Though it hurt to think about, Tim knew Damian wasn’t finding what he needed with Tim, and he couldn’t go on like that. As far as he knew, the last time Damian had gotten a proper rest was the last time Rowan had come over and pulled him out of his self imposed exhile.

 

Sleep deprivation was not something that was healthy for anyone, especially when it was caused by nightmares and in such a high performing person at that. So, left with no other options, Tim decided that for the first time in a while, they were going to pay Rowan a nightly visit. He also decided that for the first time in his ever, he was going to stay.

 

He told himself that the reason he didn’t tell Damian was because he wanted to see if he’d sleep on his own.

 

(The truth was that he wanted to see if Damian would look for him, or if he’d go straight to Rowan. He wanted to see if he was needed.)

 

 So, when it was time to head back in, he went to Rowan's. If Damian had been able to go for an unknown number of nights for years, Tim didn't think he'd have too much trouble slipping into Rowan's room.

 

It wasn't like he'd never come in that way, either. It would just be the first time he'd ever _stayed._ And sure, maybe that wasn't entirely appropriate but again, Damian had done it for years and it was _Rowan._ The girl was more likely to try and braid his hair then do anything too inappropriate. (Also he didn't get to spend as much time with Rowan as Damian did, and he kind of missed her.)

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Rowan was used to having colorfully suited dudes come into her room in the middle of the night, so she generally wasn’t startled.

 

At least, she was in the past. After things started going downhill, Damian came less and less, so she gradually got used to being on her own for the night. When he was in SanFrancisco, she knew there was no chance he’d come so she’d even stopped wearing pants again. That hadn’t much changed after everything went down, and so she hadn’t felt the need to develop that passive allowance of bird themed heroes coming through her window.

 

So, when she heard the latch pop, and she saw a dark shadow slip in with the night, Rowan did the logical thing and slammed the book in her hands closed, freezing up shortly after.

 

_‘Holy fuck, mother of-‘_

“Hey Rowan,” Tim said softly, pulling off his hood and running a gloved hand through unruly locks.

 

The smooth sound of his voice didn’t help her nerves, but it did redirect her train of thought.

 

_‘-what the hell is he doing here?’_

She wasn’t offended by his presence, _really._ It was just of all the people she expected to make their merry way through her window, Tim was definitely not at the top. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him there, it was just that his morals where slightly (Read: Entirely) different than Damian’s, and he always had seemed to have an issue with staying with her after dark.

 

She’d overlooked it for the most part because everyone had their way of doing things, but now she couldn’t exactly ignore it.

 

After realizing that she’d been clutching her book to her chest, Rowan snapped out of her stupor and folded her legs under her comforted. It was a damn good thing she was wearing shorts.

 

Not bothering to say anything, Rowan raised one eyebrow and stared at Tim for an answer.

 

He didn’t disappoint.

 

“This is an experiment. Damian should be by later.”

 

She snorted because that _totally_ cleared things up.

 

Rolling her eyes, she went back to her book and adjusted the small light she had attached to the back cover. As long as he didn’t make too much noise, Tim could be as cryptic as he wanted.

 

She scanned a few lines of her book silently, before snapping her gaze right back to Tim as he went to sit down on her bed.

 

“What?” he asked, catching her hard stare.

 

Though she didn’t mind having him over, there were still some rules she kept. Damian knew them, but Tim didn’t usually bother to stay or get comfortable enough when in uniform to learn them.

 

She took pity on him and told him one of her most important rules.

 

“Get your butt off of my bed. No hero clothes on the comforter.”

 

He immediately got up, surprise evident on his face, and held his hands up.

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

Sighing, she closed her book once again and pointed to a specific drawer she kept for nights like this. She kept it well stocked even though she wasn’t sure that Damian would be coming anymore.

 

Tim walked to where she was pointing, and she watched by the light of the moon as Tim pulled on the draw, and frowned when nothing happened.

 

 _‘Right,’_ she thought.

 

She kept it locked so her Mama or Gran wouldn’t stumble across it, and usually Damian just picked the lock whenever he needed something from it.

 

“Key’s in my sharpie cup,” she said, referring to the gray ceramic cup on top of her dresser,” there are some shorts and stuff in there. I don’t like the uniform anywhere near my bed, you guys get into too many things.”

 

Laughing, Tim quickly found the key and rummaged around the drawer. His laughter quickly stopped, and he pulled out something that glinted in the muted light.

 

“Why do you have a batterang?”

 

“It’s a broken batterang,” she corrected, getting up to take it from him and pull out a tshirt and some shorts.

 

She turned the large tool over in her hand and showed him the busted center.

 

“It used to be retractable, but the mechanism got busted. Damian had it after patrol one night, and he left it here.”

 

“Why do you have this?” he inquired, picking out another item.

 

She took that from him too, and put it back in her drawer with the batterang.

 

“I just throw whatever Damian leaves in there…” she murmmered as she locked the drawer again and flopped back into her bed.

 

“And he leaves communicators?” Tim inquired, referring to the round item he’d picked up last.

 

Sighing, Rowan figured she was never going to get to her book and resigned herself to a long night of parental like questions.

 

“He left an _outdated_ communicator. He had it in a pouch one day and he left it here after he was done tinkering with it. Now put on the comfy stuff so you don’t get blood or whatever in my sheets.”

 

“ _Rowan._ ”

 

She yawned, and wondered when Tim was going to realize that she’d had a kunai, a smoke bomb, and some other stuff in there that was all perfectly functional. Damian simply left the oddest things.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

As it turned out, Tim wasn’t too far off his mark.

 

Damian _did_ come and find them, but only after calling Tim’s communicator multiple times.

 

He also fell asleep much faster, but Tim was sure that was because he’d draped himself across his chest and buried his head in Rowan’s stomach, leaving them all sprawled across her bedroom floor. To his knowledge, Damian hadn’t woken up anytime throughout the night either.

 

He was the one that had to wake up first and clear them out before Rowan’s Gran or Mom came in and found them tangled up in each other. He had to admit, though, he hadn’t slept that well in ages. He wouldn’t mind waking up to Rowan’s out of control bed head and Damian’s soft, sleepy gaze every morning.

 

No, he wouldn’t mind at all


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today my friends bow tie was being pushed off kilter by his bag, and I almost said 'Damian your tie is messed up'. His name is Joel. I've never even met a Damian. 
> 
> I think that says everything you need to know about my life. 
> 
> I haven't slept properly in days and I'm tired as hell and I have so so much homework and I'm sure this has many typos so I'm sorry... But pleas enjoy this anyway??? Ugh, I'm dying. Something tells me this chapter is horrible I’m sorry if it is.
> 
> Warning: Damian's dirty mouth, masturbation, and male on male loving (All of which is Damian’s fault.)

 

Moments, he'd learned, were fleeting. One minute they're here, and then they've passed. Good, bad, it's all the same. Even at 16, Damian had learned this and taken it to heart.

 

The red helmet, combi stick, and various other objects that took up residence on his shelves held testimony to his sentimentality.

 

When you've experienced as many things as he had, though, you learned to appreciate the fickleness of time. And he had. He'd learned that no matter the moment, no matter it's value, time waited for no one.

 

He'd also learned that if you were careful, and you tried hard enough, that some moments, if caught at the right time, could be made to last beyond their small instance in time. Some moments, if approached just so, could be made immortal.

 

The internet, in all of its usefulness; was one way to have something echo, to have it be heard over and over again. Have it be remembered; because on the Internet, they say nothing truly ever goes away. It is for this reason that he developed a fascination with Twitter, and all of the sites like it. He had to be careful with the subject matter he posted, and the way it was phrased, but if done right, it was one more tool he had to document his memories.

 

Pictures, on the other hand, were useful too. Sketched, painted, or photographed; it didn't matter to him. With written words, he could be vague and still get his point across. Pictures, though, well they always had to be quite literal. They took a sliver of a feeling and immortalized it, made it relivable forever. Because of this, it was his favorite method. He'd spent countless hours in the Wayne gardens painting when he knew no one would look for him. Sketches were lost amongst notes and buried in his drawers. He had hundreds of carefully taken pictures on multiple flash drives hidden in his room, and more yet on his phone and other various devices.

 

In short, Damian enjoyed the crafts. Some would call him an artist, and they wouldn't exactly be wrong. Art would never rule his life, it would never be his profession. That, however, did not change the fact that he enjoyed it immensely. There was simply something about taking a brush to canvas, ink to paper, or a flash to the nuances of life that resonated deep within him. It was a feeling all its own, a deep fulfillment that he'd never found a replacement for.

 

After moving to Titan's Tower with Tim, however, Damian had found himself with less and less time for his hobby. That in itself hadn't bother him because it had happened before. No, what truly left him unsettled was the fact that after his death (and after reflection, Damian had gathered from the pieces of an ever growing puzzle that he _had,_ in fact, died for at least a few minutes, if not longer), he'd simply... Lost his muse, for lack of a better term. The yearning inside him that fed the need to take pictures of the way light refracted though glass or paint the serene beauty of a landscape had all but disappeared. 

 

With all that said, when Damian found himself with Rowan a week before his sixteenth birthday, the artist in him began to _scream._ It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did.

 

Only, it wasn't in a way one might think. It wasn't the fact that watching her made him want to indulge in his crafts again, but more the fact that Rowan had _always_ moved in a way that he'd thought deserved to be captured for all to see.

 

It wasn't that she was particularly graceful, or even beautiful in the sense that society would be in awe. She didn't go out of her way to always appear aesthetically pleasing, nor did she ever seem to care if her mannerisms betrayed her as uncultured.

 

She did, however, have moments where he thought he'd stop the whole world if he could, and simply _stare._ As he walked her home after a particularly mundane school day, Damian knew he was in the midst of one of those moments.

 

"You know, I think I understand why you think Callaghan was justified," she said in reference to a movie they'd both recently seen.

 

They'd been talking about Big Hero 6 as they walked, and as they'd done so it had began to drizzle, but soon the soft sprinkle had turned into a full blown shower. Damian hadn't bothered to even offer calling Alfred because he knew that Rowan would prefer to walk in the downpour. She loved water in all forms, and they'd gone out many nights during storms just so she could sit in the rain.

 

He'd asked her once why she enjoyed the feeling of water pelting her in Gotham's often freezing temperatures, and she'd only replied that it was 'nice'. What she'd meant by that he didn't know, but as he watched her, he began to understand.

 

It wasn't that he'd never seen her enjoy the dreary weather, but there was just something about the way she simply _was_ that had him slipping his phone from his pocket.

 

"Everyone's perspective is different," she began again as they reached the low wall both of them were quite familiar with. They'd cut through the park enough times that Damian almost considered it their own.

 

She stopped to cup her palms and catch some rain before completely giving up all pretenses and sitting on the wall. Both of their clothes where thoroughly drenched, but he'd been covered in much worse than water and since both of their bags were waterproof, Rowan paid no attention to her state of dress.

 

"In his own way, all the destruction was justified because to him, his daughter was worth it. The love he had for her was worth it," she continued.

 

Damian hummed in response, and instead of sitting down, he listened to the voice inside him that said he needed to somehow capture this girl who was so at ease in the elements that she almost seemed to be one with the unforgiving pelt of rain.   

The irony there laid in the fact that Rowan was anything _but_ unforgiving.

 

People were probably passing them, umbrellas open as they marveled at two teens who wore nothing but school uniforms as rain fell, but Damian ignored them. It had happened before, and it would happen again.

 

Due to the thickness of the ledge, Rowan was able to set her bag beside her and brought her legs up to cross Indian style. The edge of her shorts were now on display, but she made no move too pull her skirt down. 

 

Heart beat thrumming steadily, Damian felt his fingers ache for a pen, pencil, camera, _anything_ to feed the hole in him that begged for the fleeting beauty the world had to offer.

 

He was glad that his phone had the highest grade camera possible when, as he watched, Rowan tilted her head to the sky and let her eyes close, almost as if her serenity could only been found in nature's fluid dance.

 

His restless hands immediately angled and took multiple shots, his restless body moving on instinct in order to get all angles. She only noticed when he said nothing to her in return, and wide brown eyes opened beneath rain slicked glasses.

 

"Damian?"

 

His phone was down by then, and he wiped at his own rain slicked face before tamping down his instincts and offering her a hand.

 

"Are you ready to go home?"

 

She gave him a small smile, but he barely saw it as his mind crowded with thoughts on their way to the shop.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Later, when he was home and sufficiently warm and dry, Damian uploaded his pictures to his laptop.

 

Body thrumming with an indescribable exhilaration, Damian edited the pictures to his satisfaction until everything was just so, then he sat back to examine his work.

 

The shot he'd settled on was just off center of her front to the right, and Rowan was, of course, sitting cross legged on the wall's ledge, face toward the heavens. He'd set the picture to black and white and adjusted the contrast so that all details could be seen in startling clarity.

 

 A dark mass of hair, down for once, curled sweetly about her face, weighed down heavily with wetness. The perfect framing gave her already rounded face an almost cherubic look, and her freckles, made to stand out all the more by the color scheme, added to the effect. Full lips curled  slightly at the corners, and lashes beaded with rain could be seen from behind her glasses as the frames slid down the delicate bridge of her nose.

 

Fat droplets of rain rolled down her cheeks and on to the soft curve of her throat , and Damian longed to cup her face and smooth away the water, but he knew it was too late for that. The feeling, however, told him his picture embodied everything he'd meant it to.

 

In that moment, Rowan had looked ethereal in her innocence as she welcomed Gotham's tears. She was beautiful, and why it had taken him so long to notice was beyond his scope of perception. More importantly, she was his.

 

When Tim entered his room, Damian was still staring at his masterpiece, and didn't bother to comment as the older boy came up behind him. A pale hand settled next to his on the desks a Tim leaned over him and Damian felt warm breath on his neck as Tim spoke.

 

"Wow, how'd you get Rowan to pose like that? This is gorgeous."

 

Damian allowed his eyes to wander across the muscle on Tim's forearm as he supported himself, and he ached too reach for his camera again.

 

_'Exquisite.'_

If Rowan was an unexpected beauty, then Tim was the classical. He was all fluid muscle, perfect skin, and pretty features. Damian had experienced the pleasure of seeing the aurora borealis in person, but even that couldn't compare to the way Tim's body twisted as he fought or the arch of his back as he rode out his ecstasy. He was just so...

 

"Damian?"

 

Every bit of artistic prescience he'd lost in the past few months was flooding back to him, and he had no inclination to stop it. He _wanted_ it. More importantly, he _wanted_ Tim. There was something he'd had the idea of doing before, and right then seemed like the perfect time to do it...

 

"Tim," he said without preamble, and then with a tilt of his head, he kissed him.

 

It had been a while since they'd touched each other like that, and never when he was feeling like so serene. Every intimate moment they'd had together before had been nothing but a rough _fuck._ That wasn't what Damian wanted then, though. Now that he was a little more assured in what he _really_ wanted, he was going to go for it. Now that he knew Tim was _his,_ he'd do what he wanted.

 

He poured everything he had into the kiss; all of his approval, anger, frustration, sorrow, need, hurt, but most importantly, his affection. He gave Tim it all, and to his immense pleasure, Tim returned it.

 

There was an unspoken agreement as their mouths moved against each other, tongues dancing. Tonight there would be no questions, tonight they would just _feel._ They'd been speaking to each other well enough already.

 

Damian was on his feet in but a moment, hands moving to slender hips and onto heated skin. Tim returned the favor, sliding his hands under Damian's shirt and pulling the fabric up. Smirking, Damian gripped Tim's own shirt and tugged him closer.

 

"Impatient are we?"

 

Blue eyes flashing, Tim gave him a playful smile in return and Damian got some form of reassurance that he didn't know he needed. He didn't pay too much attention to it because honestly, he hadn't known he'd needed _Tim_ in the first place.

 

"Are you telling me you aren't?"

 

He let out a short bark of laughter and had both of their shirts off and his lips at Tim's neck before Tim could find the next breath.

 

" _I'm_ not impatient. I'd just like to have you're cock in my ass as soon as possible."

 

They'd done assorted things, sure, but they hadn't gone all the way yet. It was a ridiculous notion to Damian, but it hadn't happened and he hadn't pushed it. He'd gotten his pleasure before and that's all that mattered, but now he wanted more. He'd imagined that the first time he'd have Tim face down and grinding back until they were both on the verge of exhaustion, but in the heat of the moment all he wanted was to feel the the lithe body moving over him.

 

Tim, however, seemed to freeze and Damian brought his head up to raise a questioning brow.

 

"Damian," Tim began," I don't think I want to go all the way tonight."

 

Damian's eyebrows shot up to his hairline and the words were slipping out of his mouth with every bit of disbelief he felt.

 

"You're a virgin?"

 

To his credit, Tim only laughed for a little while.

 

"No- God no," he eventually managed to get out.

 

Damian's brow smoothed out and he breathed a sigh of relief. Virginity hadn't meant much to him, but he knew it did to some people and even if it was Tim, he wasn't exactly ready to be deflowering any virgins at the moment.

 

_'Unless they've got breasts that would spill from my hands and thighs that would feel great wrapped around my hips.'_

The thought came unbidden and while he didn't exactly ignore it, he didn't stop to analyze it. He'd file that away for later contemplation, because _that_ would not be happening anytime soon.

 

_'But fuck she'd feel great between us.'_

Really, he'd have to think about that later.

 

"What's the problem?" he eventually asked, pulling back.

 

To his delight, slender hands tightened and didn't let him pull away.

 

"Damian... I just don't think we should doing that right now. You're too young."

 

At that, Damian took his turn to let out an entirely inappropriate gale of laughter.

 

"You know who's too young?" he asked rhetorically," Rowan's too young. Me? I'm just fine. I'm completely ready to be pounded," he laughed, purposely being vulgar," in fact, if that's not what you're into I'd be more than happy to fuck you senseless."

 

Really, Tim thought he was too _young._ That was one of the most ridiculous things he'd ever heard.

 

"Damian you're _fifteen-"_

 

"I'm practically 16 and am in no way a virgin so you can drop whatever inane reason you have for postponing the inevitable," he cut in.

 

He brought the other boy closer and made sure that Tim could feel how _ready_ he was.

 

"Okay look," Tim breathed, and Damian was almost sure he'd won," obviously neither of us are in the mood to get into a debate right now, so how about we just go the easy route tonight and discuss the rest later."

 

Tim punctuated his statement by bringing warm lips to Damian's pulse point and sucking. Shivering, Damian angled his hips and ground against Tim.

 

He didn't want to wait. He didn't want to wait, but for once he didn't want to fight and so he allowed Tim the one free pass, and pushed them both toward his bed.

 

"Fine," he bit out.

 

They fell on a freshly laundered comforter, and Damian took pleasure in the way Tim arched up when he caught a pink nipple with his nail. Passions stoked, both artistic and lustful, Damian stared, once again enraptured by the picture one of his Soul Mates made before him.

 

"Geez, Damian, after all that you're just going to sit and stare?"

 

Since he wasn't going to get what he _really_ wanted, Damian decided to go for the next best thing.

 

"Yes. Yes I am."

 

Tim's previously lidded eyes opened fully and an annoyed look settled on his face.

 

"For fucks sake Damian if you're going to be an ass about this then forget it."

He grinned in response, and sat back as Tim lay stretched out before him, jeans riding low on his hips.

 

"According to most people I'm an ass no matter what, but that's the beside the point. If we're not going have _actual_ sex, then I want to do something only marginally less pleasing."

 

Head falling back so he could stare at the ceiling, Tim sighed.

 

"And that would be?"

 

Damian waited in order to add to the suspense he was sure Tim was feeling, and then-

 

"I want to take pictures."

 

Tim immediately tried to sit up but wasn't able to do it quite correctly since Damian was settled solidly on his thighs.

 

"Take pictures of _what?_ "

 

"You, of course," Damian replied.

 

The thing about the human body was that it conveyed emotion much more thoroughly than one would think. The tensing of the back muscles as one reared up for a fight. The angling of the hips as an athlete kicked a ball. The relaxed area around the eyes as someone gazed at a loved one.

 

All of it called to him, but there was nothing so beautiful as the way the human physique could come apart while simultaneously taking pleasure. _That_ was what he wanted to see.

 

"Damian as appealing as the idea of pretending to be a porn star sounds, I iust don't think it's for me."

 

He snorted, but didn't let the comment deter him as he got up and retrieved one of his best cameras.

 

"One picture," he stated quietly, eyeing the pale boy before him," because I need it."

 

Tim, who had propped himself up on his elbows, fell back again and sighed.

 

"First Rowan, and now me? What's with you today Damian?"

 

He didn't offer an answer because Tim of all people had to have noticed Damian's fondness for photography before.

 

Tim, after some minutes, decided to give up all pretenses and trail his hand down his stomach. Damian watched the way his stomach twitched with a careful eye.

 

"I was wondering when you were going to start your artistry up again."

 

Beginning to grow impatient, Damian rolled his eyes and couldn't help but snap back.

 

"Tt. It was never gone. I will admit though, it had to have dwindled for me to settle on such a tasteless subject."

 

Blue eyes flashed.

 

"If I'm so tasteless than why do you want my photo so badly?"

 

Damian walked over to Tim and leaned over just far enough to draw a hot line alone Tim's ain't band with his tongue. The response was immediate and he grinned.

 

"Why do you want me badly?"

 

Tim groaned softly when Damian leaned back up, and waved his hand lazily.

 

"You’re lucky you frustrate me both mentally _and_ sexually."

 

Damian filed that away as yet another thing to think about later.

 

The entire ordeal was short, but it was enough for Damian.

 

Without any further provocation, Tim was going for his belt buckle and releasing his length, not even bothering to fully remove his pants. Damian wouldn't be getting a show, but that wasn't what he was after anyway.

 

No, what he needed involved the way Tim hissed out a ragged breath as his palm grazed throbbing red flesh.

 

Damian said nothing as he adjusted his camera, eyes flickering over a squirming body.

 

Tim's elegant fingers wrapped around his hard on, pumping the length once, twice, then stopping as the tip oozed a perfect bead of precum, making Damian want to stop and lick it away.

 

Before he could act on his urge and ruin his project, Tim had moved his thumb to carefully rub the shining liquid into his head, entire body shivering as he focused on the sensitive skin.

 

With his muscles tense and body subtly pulling towards his center, Tim looked beautiful. Camera ready, Damian watched as Tim worked himself over, his own hunger steadily being replaced by something different, yet none the less potent.

 

Though his body still begged to join the older boy as he searched for release, a stronger part of him was beginning to take over and beg for nothing more then to savor the _moment._ Damian wanted the sweat dampened hair, the harsh pull of a tight stomach, the blue veins shining through overworked porcelain skin.

 

Damian raised his camera, walked over, and locked gazes with Tim. Endless blue clashed with reverent green, and Damian was able to capture the exact moment blue depths were swallowed by incomprehensible waves of pleasure. 

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

By the time morning came, Damian had created a new blog on Tumblr named Le Beau Piege. The name meant 'The Beautiful Trap, and he chose it because he could find no other name to fit his feeling. If all artists are said to have a goal, then his would be to contain life's simple beauties.

 

He only had two posts: one was of Rowan, and the other was the hollow created between bed sheets and body as Tim's muscles locked in a haze of pleasure. He tagged them with no names, and left nothing in the caption but the title he'd given the pictures. He'd seen blogs devoted to the majestic form of the human body, and he'd seen blogs made for the sole purpose of posting one's every day photos. He would pull from these ideas, and make it his own.

 

In secret, however, he would devote it to his Soul Mates. One day, he'd show them.

 

No one would recognize Tim, nor would they recognize Rowan. They wouldn't need to.

 

All they needed to see was innocent enthrallment of a girl among a storm and the exquisite form of a human body lost in itself. The pictures where art, but the subjects were masterpieces only he would ever hold the true knowledge of, and he was okay with that. The masterpieces always offered something new for one to learn, and he never wanted to stop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art Damian is best Damian. 
> 
> Someone save me for this school induced hell I think I'm slightly delirious. 
> 
> :’)
> 
> Oh, also we reached chapter thirty and I…. have no idea how holy hell
> 
> *A big thank you to Sam on AO3 for catching my French error! I google translated it, and we all know Damian would know how to say it perfectly. Tis fixed now, lol :)


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....I hate school it's making me so tired....
> 
> Anyway I'm sCREAMING BECAUSE LITERALLY THE POLL IS HELLA TIED??? Every time someone breaks the tie for the top three songs, two more people vote and the top three are ALL LITERALLY TIED AGAIN. If you haven't voted go break the tie lmfao. I'll post the next poll in a few days. 
> 
>  
> 
> Wow I promise the next one will be better :/
> 
> I just wanted to say that I have some polls up for you guys to vote on! I've been trying to find songs that describe their relationships with eachother (Rowan towards Damian and Tim, Damian towards Rowan and Tim, Tim towards Rowan and Damian.) But I havent been able to choose the songs, so how about you guys go vote! I want to see how you guys see them too, so this will help me see that POV! I enjoy interacting with my readers, so go vote lol. Next chapter shouldn't be too far away.  
> Since I can only display one poll at a time, Damian's up first! I'll close that poll and put Tim up in seven days, then after another seven has passed, I'll close Tim and put Rowan up!

Rowan hated going out of her way to do things. Dishes, shopping, homework, laundry; she hated all of it.

 

So, with this in mind, Rowan had no idea how her lazy ass ended up with such a full schedule. Her Monday through Friday schedule consisted of going to school at 8 am until 3 pm, then heading home to work the counter with Tatianna until the shop was closed at 9:00 pm, talking to both Tim and Tati between customers. Any homework she received was immediately done because she knew if she didn't do it then, she'd forget about it. She did it while she was working in the shop, which left less time for her to talk to her friends. Even then, when she wasn't working the counter, doing homework, or wasting time with Tatianna, she tended to be in the kitchen baking. Tim, if he was able to show up at all, usually left around seven in order to get home in time to get ready for patrol. When the day was over and it was time to close up, Rowan usually went upstairs to get ready to settle into her bed while her Gran and Mama, if the younger woman was home, cleaned up. From there Rowan tried to relax, and often times communicated with the boys after their patrols. After speaking with them for an hour or so, Rowan usually was exhausted enough for her body to fall into slumber, and she awoke the next day to do it all again.

 

Her weekends, however, were an entirely different story. Rowan may not have explicitly stated it, but nearly every Saturday she had was devoted to Lucy. The younger girl's aunt tended to have her baby sit on those days, and even if she didn't need a baby sitter, Rowan still received calls from Lucy asking to go places. Since she didn't really mind, Rowan almost always ended up with Lucy for the duration of her Saturdays. The nights, however, where very similar to her weekday nights in the fact that she cleaned up, snuggled into her bed, and busied herself with reading and talking to Damian and Tim. Though they still continued to stay at home for their nights, Rowan appreciated the effort they put in even if she still found herself remembering what it was like to fall asleep with two of her closest friends.

 

 After Saturday's rush was done, Sunday was pretty much her only free time.

 

With all that said, she really wasn't surprised when Tim called her up on Sunday in order to spend time together. What _did_ surprise her was the fact that he invited her to the manor. Her astonishment was evident in her response.

 

"What happened?"

 

Rowan had only been to the manor a grand total of four times: the first being the night she met Damian, the second being the next time she saw him for movies, the third was the Christmas incident that shall not be named, and the fourth was the time Damian had apparently broken down for reasons she was _still_ too afraid to ask after, which was also something she didn't like to think about. Whatever had happened wasn’t something Damian was ready to talk about, even she could see that.

 

She'd concluded from that alone that they had her reasons for not wanting her at the oversized house, and had never pushed the issue.

 

"Nothing happened, Ro. We just haven't been able to spend a lot of quality time together, and I thought we could watch a movie."

 

Still skeptical, Rowan dragged herself out of her bed and peeked into the hall, wondering if her Mama was even home so she could ask.

Spotting the woman bustling about in the bathroom, Rowan grunted and made her way over.

 

"Hold up," she told Tim, putting her phone on mute.

 

Her Mama stopped at the sound of her voice, and pulled away from the mirror to stand straighter and look at Rowan. From the way her Mama's eyes had taken on a smoky look and the thick cat eye on her left lid, Rowan figured that she was probably on bar duty for one of the clubs she'd been hired at.

 

Rowan sometimes worried about how hard her Mama worked, but at the same time she was more than proud. Her Gran's shop made good money, but Miranda Chase was a dancer at heart and her dream had always been to open up a dance studio. Building space in Gotham didn't come cheap, however, and so she worked her ass off at every job she could find in order to help finance her dream. She wasn't about to let years of classical ballet training go to waste, and both Rowan and her Gran gave the woman full support. It was hard enough trying to live off of a dancer's salary, but a ballerina was even more of a stretch. Add that to the fact that she was _black_ and trained as a classic dancer, and you had a recipe for poverty. The dance field on her Mama's side was populated by predominately white people, and so she'd spent years having to explain that _no,_ she did _not_ study hip pop when people asked what she did.

 

Luckily, Rowan's Mama much preferred teaching her art than trying to perform for the masses, and so she'd been able to take the slightly easier path. Slightly easier, however, was still no walk in the park.

 

"What's up, baby girl?"

 

Rowan spotted the lipstick on the counter and picked it up as she asked her question, liking the look of the deep red color.

 

"Can I go hang with Tim today?"

 

She contemplated taking the lipstick, but she had nowhere to wear it to and she didn't feel like getting it on everything every time she rubbed her face or tried to eat.

 

"You've been spending _a lot_ of time with Tim."

 

Rowan was immediately snapped out of her musings by her Mama's tone, and she didn't exactly like the twist of her lips either. She could feel unwanted questions coming.

 

"Yeah?" she asked hesitantly.

 

"What happened to Damian?"

 

Wow, she could just see the conversation going to shit.

 

"We go to school together now, remember? I told you a while ago... And we still talk all the time on the phone..."

 

One generous hip cocked at the same time an eyebrow rose.

"Uh huh, yeah. Back to what you asked. Where exactly are you trying to go with Tim? Hasn't he been coming to the shop every day?"

 

At this rate, Tim was going to think she hung up on him. Actually, she might do just that and save herself the trouble.

 

"We're just going to watch a movie at his house," she said awkwardly, not knowing why the words suddenly felt so _off_ on her tongue," and he pretty much just sits and works when he's here."

 

Eyes as dark as her own narrowed, and Rowan _really_ felt like she was saying the wrong things, she just had no idea why.

 

"You can go," her Mama said eventually," but I want your behind home by five."

 

Though the discomfort she was feeling from the way her Mama was studying her hadn't faded, Rowan still managed to give her Mama a small thank you smile.

 

She'd turned to go back into her bedroom to get ready and tell Tim she could go when her Mama shouted down the hall, startling Rowan enough for her to catch her toe on the hard wood of her door.

 

"And put on some damn pants!"

 

Screaming internally as her tiny toe felt as if it had been hit with the wrath of God, Rowan decided lying on the floor in agony was a much better idea even as she unmuted her phone and told Tim she could go.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

When he picked her up, they spent the ride to the manor in silence more because she'd gotten on her DS while waiting for him and he had the sense not to bother her when she was playing animal crossing than because they had nothing to talk about.

 

He'd pulled up in front of the bakery, and after seeing that it was him, she'd slid into the passenger seat while he greeted her Gran. She hadn't even had to lift her eyes from the screen of her game to slide into the butter soft leather of the car.

 

In all actuality, he'd only spoken once about halfway through the ride.

 

"So, how's your beastiality game?"

 

Once he'd learned she had for all intense purposes gotten her character involved with a wolf in her fictional town, he hadn't stopped bothering her about it.

 

So she flipped him off both because she knew he played the game and had done _the same thing,_ and because he could _fuck off_ thank you very much.

 

He'd laughed, and left her alone right up until they were parked in the manor's large garage and he was gently pulling her DS out of her hands. She let it happen, but watched with narrowed eyes until he saved her progress.

 

They had a silent agreement that if he ever messed up her games, she'd go and mess up _his._ That was a war no one was ready for.

 

Once he was done and assured that she wasn't about to space out on him again, he handed back her gaming device and she shoved it in her pocket.

 

"Hi," he finally said, keys in one hand while the other rested on the door's handle. His eyes were soft as he smiled at her, and somehow it made her sort of uncomfortable, so she slipped out of the car into the dim lighting of the garage.

 

"Hey," she replied awkwardly, shuffling backwards all the while making sure not to bump into the expensive looking car behind her.

 

There had to be at least ten cars in the garage, plus about seven motorcycles and really Rowan wasn't that impressed. She'd been around Damian and his opulent tastes far too long to be impressed with the splendor of the Wayne's.

 

 _'Way too much money in this family,'_ she griped.

 

Between Dick's investments, Tim and Damian's business savvy, and whatever Jason did to bring in money, Rowan had a feeling that the extended Wayne family would never be left wanting for money even if Wayne Industries went under and crashed in less than sixty seconds.

 

Really, it was _ridiculous._

She felt a light tug on a curl that that wasn't hidden underneath her hoody, and her hand immediately went up to pull at the one in her hair. Amused blue eyes stared down at her as slender fingers pulled away.

 

"What're you thinking about?"

 

Sure she hadn't really been alone with him in a while, but the rate at which her cheeks heated with his proximity was just insane.

 

She couldn't understand just what was so embarrassing.

 

 _'He's your Soul Mate, he took you on a date, and he's unnecessarily pretty,’ a_ tiny voice whispered in her mind.

 

But she ignored that voice because _wow not something we're thinking about._

 

“It’s nothing,” she mumbled, bringing her gaze to the ground and stuffing her hands in her pockets.

 

Hopefully this way Tim wouldn’t see the pink she was almost sure had colored her cheeks.

 

"If it's nothing, then why aren't you looking at me?"

 

Well, the boy had a point. Shaking her head, she went with the most obvious choice.

 

"Did you get snacks?"

 

He didn't buy it, she could see it in his stance, but he took it anyway.

 

"No, but we probably have some in the kitchen."

 

That sounded great to her, but still...

 

"Do you think I could make something?"

 

She needed the normality; the calm that came with the easy mechanics of cooking.

 

For a moment, she thought Tim was going to say no. Hell, she could practically see the word forming in his lips, and she completely understood. This wasn't her house, so she wouldn't push it.

 

Instead of denying her, though, he sighed and combed through black strands with his fingers.

 

"Yeah, I've been craving blondies and I think we have the ingredients?"

 

The fact that he didn't even ask if she knew how to make them was testament to his faith in her abilities, and she couldn't help but flush in delight.

 

"Sounds good," she grinned.

 

"Okay, so I was going to wait until later, but there's actually something I need to do and if you're going to be baking, then I might as well get it done to save time."

 

She nodded even as she rolled her eyes, knowing he was probably referring to an unfinished case report or something. He just didn't know when to take a break.

 

"To get to the kitchen just..."

 

She really couldn't help but tune him out as she tried to figure out ways to get the overworked teen to _take a damn day for himself_ before he keeled over.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

When she made her way towards the kitchen, careful to follow the directions Tim had painstakingly given her three times (She had a legitimate reason the first time she'd ignored him, the second was just because she'd begun to think about actually _making the blondies yum.)_ , she happened upon one silver haired man. Though she wasn't at the manor enough to really interact with Alfred, she still held a healthy respect for the man that had to singlehandedly care of a family of unnecessarily stubborn heroes.

 

With that in mind, she called out to him.

 

"Alfred..." she started hesitantly, not knowing how he'd react to what she wanted to say.

 

"Yes?" his steady voice replied, kind gray eyes conveying warmth.

 

Instantly soothed by the lovely man, she smiled softly.

 

"Thank you," she told him, trying to convey years worth of gratitude into two words.

 

Bemusement lighting his features, he turned to her fully.

 

"I’m sorry if I'm terribly out of context, but that thank you did not appear to be for allowing you to use the kitchen."

 

She had no idea how he knew she'd been headed for the kitchen, but it didn't much matter. Rowan couldn't hide her smile if she tried, nor did she want to.

 

"You're right. It's for the first time I was here. You offered to help me when so many would have left me to sit by myself, even if I was scared to leave my place at the time. I just wanted to say... Thank you. You're the reason I met Damian, and by extension, Tim."

 

The proud, elegant man seemed to stand a little straighter even as his eyes softened and she was granted a look of genuine affection that made her wonder how one man could be so accepting and utterly loyal to those around him. Alfred Pennyworth was truly an angel, and she'd laugh at anyone who thought differently.

 

"No Miss Rowan," he smiled," I want to thank you. You make them happier."

 

And with that, Alfred was off down the hall, Rowan behind him with a light blush across her cheeks.

 

The only way she could think of to get her mind of off things involved a lot of sugar, and so she decided to complete her original task and head on to the kitchen.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Blondies weren’t hard to make, and so she’d had the first batch in the oven within fifteen minutes. They needed twenty or so minutes to bake, but she wasn’t worried because the kitchen was equipped with two ovens.

 

No, what actually worried her was the slender black haired girl leaning against the counter when she’d turned around after making sure the second oven was hot enough. With the scent of vanilla permeating the air, and the sound of the dishwasher running, Rowan hadn’t heard her arrive. Hell, from the cool expression and deceptively loose posture, Rowan knew that this was the infamous Cass and figured that even if it had been dead silent, she still wouldn’t have noticed the older girl pop in.

 

So, as it was Rowan felt entirely justified when she dropped the oven mitt in her hands at the abrupt sight of another person, and let out shrill, startled sound deep in her throat.

 

_‘WhatTheFuckShitOhCrap!’_

The shot of adrenaline that went through her from the shock unfortunately did little more than completely break her mental profanity filter and make her back up. She held her hands up hoping that Cassandra wouldn’t take offense to finding some random girl in her kitchen, and tried not to turn tail and run.

 

Damian, difficult as he was, seemed to hold a lot of respect for his adoptive sister and Rowan knew that simply met that Cassandra Cain could kick some serious ass. That combined with the fact that the older girl kept mostly to herself made sure that Rowan had never actually met her, and now she was beginning to regret that.

 

When Cassandra made no move to get up from her seat, Rowan carefully lowered her arms and stuffed them behind her borrowed apron, cleanliness be damned.

 

“What are you making?” Cassandra asked, head resting on her hand and brow quirked in interest.

 

Mouth suddenly dry, Rowan tightened her grip on her clothes and shrugged.

 

“B-blondies…” she mumbled.

 

Jesus, Cassandra was intimidating. She really needed to get Damian to stop telling her stories about their patrols; she was just going to end up like this with everyone.

 

Arched black eyebrows came together as a delicate nose twitched, and the knot in Rowan’s stomach began to loosen. She may have been going out on a limb, but maybe…

 

“I’ve never had them before. They smell nice.”

 

…Cassandra had smelled them, and come to the kitchen looking for treats? Rowan could get with that idea. She understood the allure of food as well as anyone.

 

“Do you… Want some when they’re done?”

 

Cassandra inclined her head, and Rowan gave her a small smile in return. Now that she knew what Cassandra was there for, she found it much easier to head over and get her second pan to stick in the oven. Once it was in, she set a secondary timer and sat on the other side of the breakfast bar. It was awkward, as Cassandra hadn’t stopped her visual perusal.

 

It wasn’t like she was staring rudely, more like she was trying to figure something out. Tim and even Damian looked at her like that sometimes, so she didn’t worry too much about it. She simply pulled out her phone and after noticing she had a text from Tim, opened up her messaging app.

 

He’d said something about being caught up in a small part of a case and that he’d be there in a few minutes. She simply rolled her eyes and tried not to laugh. To think, he said _she_ was the one who got easily sidetracked. Put a good case in front of him, and he’d be gone for days.

 

“So you’re Rowan?”

 

The even voice broke through her thoughts, and Rowan was once again left feeling just a little bit apprehensive.

 

"Err, yeah?"

 

She didn't _think_ the boys talked about her too often, so she wasn't sure how Cassandra would know who she was.

 

"Tim keeps a picture of the two of you along with Damian in his room. I believe it is a bit out of date, though."

 

Well, that answered one of Rowan's questions, but had Rowan wondering about something else. The way Cassandra spoke was interesting, almost as if she wasn't quite sure of her words. Rowan could relate.

 

"What's the picture of?"

 

She propped her foot up on the bottom of the tall stool she was situated on, and couldn't help but jiggle her knee fretfully. Cassandra was really calm, though, and that helped Rowan's anxiousness just a little bit.

 

"You were...In the snow?"

 

Rowan knew exactly what she was talking about from that alone.

 

During some of its harshest winters, Gotham could get blanketed in snow just thick enough to cover its streets. During one of those times, she, her Gran, her Mama, Damian, and Tim had gone to the park to enjoy the snow. They'd started a snowball fight that had quickly evolved into shoving each other (Read: Tim and Damian threw each other around while she tried not to get clobbered and her Mama and Gran laughed) . From the sidelines, Rowan's Gran had managed a shot of Damian trying to sit up out of a particularly large pile of snow while Rowan was sprawled over him, face pushed awkwardly into the cold terrain. Tim had stood beside them, reaching out to try and help them up. Rowan could remember the harsh bite of the snow against her nose as clearly as the day it had happened.

 

"I know the one you're talking about," Rowan said with a soft grin.

 

Cassandra didn't smile, but she did nod in return as her eyes drifted towards the ovens.

 

_'Definitely here for the food.'_

As the seconds flew by, Rowan busied herself on her phone. Maybe it was from spending so much time with Damian, or maybe it was an instinct, but though she knew just from looking that Cassandra was deadly as any double sided blade, she was not in danger. It was that feeling that allowed her to sit comfortably in the presence of the quiet teen all the way up until it was time to take the snacks out of the oven and plate them.

 

After that, Rowan set the plate in front of them both, not even bothering to let them cool. Waiting for food to chill was for the weak as far as she was concerned.

 

The plate was completely empty within ten minutes, and though she felt mildly bad about not saving Tim any, she was happier with the smile on Cassandra's face. Besides, Tim should have come sooner.

 

Cassandra stood up as she polished of the last golden square and gracefully turned to leave. Before she was gone, however, she pinned Rowan with her cool-but-not-cold gaze.

 

"Thank you... And if you ever need anything, Tim and Damian are not the only ones willing to help."

 

Rowan sat in silence after that, all the while trying to figure out just what she meant by that.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

When Tim walked into the kitchen later and saw Rowan sitting by the plate that had once held her blondies, now nothing but crumbs, she knew exactly what he’d spent the past hour doing. It was always easy to tell when he’d been getting lost in the internet due to the sheer amount of memes he tended to spew afterwards. It was great.

 

Looking extremely dejected, he picked up a crumb and brought it to his lips.

 

“I came out to have a good time and honestly I’m feeling so attacked right now.”

 

She felt no shame when she looked him straight in the eye and said “Wow, what a meme loving fuck.”

 

“You know, I’m pretty sure that Pepe war was two sided last night,” he pointed out.

 

She’d fully admit that she’d sent him nothing but various pictures of the sad green frog the night before.

 

She still felt no shame, even when she stood up and slammed her hand down onto the counter.

 

“Pepe is a national treasure!”

 

Damian, of course, chose that moment to enter the conversation. He had one foot in the door, disgust on his face, and looked completely ready clock them both.

 

“You two are idiots.”

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Hours later, when his children were done risking their lives for the night, a tired butler sat and breathed deeply over a steaming cup of tea, and became lost in his thoughts.

 

_'At this rate, that poor girl is going to stumble across every member of this family before those silly boys even think of actually introducing her to us.'_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, this might be the last one for a 1-3 weeks... I'll try to update, but I have some important projects coming up. I will have that 500 or so fluff moment up soon that people wanted, tho… Eventually…
> 
> Also if I made any mistakes, I’m sorry


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some chapters write themselves... They come to me at the most random of times and I'm like ??? But this is one of them. This is not what you guys expected, I know, but it's better than nothing?? Anyway.... Yeah... 
> 
> I have an essay, a Spanish project, and a Spanish exam all next week.. None of which I have started on... Yet I wrote this... That tells you how bad this wanted to be written.

Rowan's Gran and Mama didn't really like leaving her alone. That was an absolutely 100% true fact.

 

Another 100% true fact was that everyone needs some personal time, and so in late November, after a particularly grueling week at the bakery, her Gran and Mama decided to take a mom and daughter day for themselves.

 

They did that periodically, and always after a busy bakery week because that meant they had a little extra money, and could go out and do something that they both enjoyed. Rowan thought it was sweet, and she never minded that they left her to her own devices to bond with each other. They spent wry other day with her, so it was fine.

 

After she'd turned 13, however, they'd stopped getting her baby sitters, and started letting her be at home alone as long as all the windows were bolted, the doors were locked, and all of the alarms were on.

 

To Rowan, it didn't matter much in the long run. All she did while her Mama and Gran were out was chill in her room anyway, so it wasn't a big deal.

 

Looking at it from Damian's perspective, however, made it seem like a great opportunity to come over and eat all of the food in the fridge without being seen. That was why when she saw him in her room, passed out on her bed while her Gran and Mama where out at the theater, she completely understood.

 

She'd been in the living room for a while, so she wasn't sure when he got there, but it was obvious by the deep sleep he was in that he planned to stay for a while. Really she didn't mind. In fact, it was kind of nice. She knew he'd wake up eventually, and they could play a game or something.

 

Really, she was quite happy.

 

At least, she was happy right up until she got close enough to see his sweat drenched t shirt and _hear_ the grinding of his teeth.

 

She knew a nightmare when she saw one, and as she tried to wake him up she watched the nightmare appear with progress, and because she was completely great at handling situations, she panicked.

 

Sassy Damian she could deal with. The writhing, extremely distressed one on her bed?

 

Not so much.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

He slipped into his dreams as one slips into the ocean: carefully, weary of the crashing waves that could swallow one whole.

 

Of course, in the end that is not quite how it happened.

 

No, instead of pulling him under all at once, the darkness crept up on him like the first touch of chill in the winter. It started at the edges of his mind, spiraling in until he could do nothing but breathe in the frost of unwanted memories.

 

The first breath reminded him that he was a liar. He had never forgotten what had transpired while his Mother had played her games. He simply ran away from the experience until he had to slow down long enough to sleep. Then, and only then could Talia's voice reach him.

 

_"I wish I didn't love you."_

_-his abdomen is opened wide, though he feels nothing-_

_"You failed me."_

_-why does she do this he only wanted her approval but he wanted **his** too he only wanted-_

_"Why must you make things so difficult?"_

_-love he wanted love everything is so cold-_

_"We could have built an empire."_

_-she is so cold why does he love this woman-_

_A pleasantly cool hand rested on his forehead, and he wished that he could keep it there forever. Even as his body burned with healing, he knew through the haze that his mother would not leave him. She had always stayed while his injuries were tended to. (His training had produced many.)_

_-she is strong beautiful cunning-_

_He was alone. He felt nothing, but he instinctively knew there was a tube shoved down his throat as he bobbed slightly in the glass tube._

_-he is her experiment her masterpiece her son-_

_He could see a perfectly manicured hand resting against his prison._

_-he failed her-_

_"You are so much like your father."_

_-he failed him-_

_"But you are also like me, no?"_

_-he lost but he won because his Father was safe his team was safe Tim Dick Jason Cassandra Barbara Stephanie Colin Rowan were safe-_

_"Such a strong fighter..."_

_-weren't they?-_

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Nails the color of blood against thick glass as matching lips twist in satisfaction._

_-they were better off. Right? He couldn't think he didn't think-_

_"You're almost ready..."_

_-his Father would not have done this-_

_"I wish I could keep you home."_

_-his Mother would not have done this-_

_"My hands on boy, look where masquerading as the 'hero' has gotten you."_

_-he would not have-_

_His arm burned as the skin was parted sans anesthetic, but he did not so much as blink. His Mother smiled, and he felt disgust with himself at the pride that brought him._

_-would he? He was not Bruce Wayne. He was not Talia Al Ghul-_

_"I should kill you right here."_

_-who was he?-_

_He did not know what to make of the softness in his Mother's eyes as his blood dropped from the dagger in her hand._

_-BruceOrTaliaBruceOrTaliaBruceOrTalia-_

_He didn't bother to watch the needles as she brought it to his skin and injected something into his veins._

_-who's rules did he follow? Who was right?-_

_"Do not come to me when your choices bring all you love crashing to the ground. You could have had **everything.** "_

_-he couldn't tell-_

_His entire body hurt, but he still did not scream. His vision blurred and the faint echo of his Mother's voice haunted him._

_-he should have died on that street-_

_He remembers the scent of the spicy perfume his mother favored, even after the years apart. So, as he descended into his own mind, he was able to recognize the smell that engulfed him._

- _a warm drop hits his face-_

**No.**

No, that wasn't right. That wasn't what had happened, not at all, no it was-

 

His eyes snapped open, and he gasped in a breath as the girl above him shook.

 

"Damian?" she breathed.

 

As he came back to himself, he could feel soft hands cradling his cheeks and could practically see his green eyes reflected back in the shiny earth hued depths staring at him.

 

Heart beating, chest tight, the information entered Damian's mind in quick bursts, processing even as he struggled to comprehend.

 

_'Heavy weight on his chest-'_

From Rowan's body-

 

_'The smell of salt permeating the air-'_

From her tears; was she crying?

 

_'Tiny crescent indents on his cheeks-'_

She was gripping him so tightly-

 

_'Pupils blown wide-'_

-in fear; why was she afraid? She should never be afraid-

 

_'Rowan-'_

"Damian!"

His name was whispered like a prayer, and he breathed in her scent as she chanted his name-

 

"Damian, Damian, Damian."

 

She smelled like strawberries and cream, and he knew somewhere there was probably a strawberry shortcake made by her hands.

 

"Dami, you're okay, you're okay _-"_

 

Her head lowered until their foreheads touched and he could feel the sweat on her brow slick against his own. At barely an inch apart, he could practically feel the displacement of air as her lips moved rapidly to form unintelligible words.

 

"Rowan," he whispered, only then noticing the ache in his jaw. He must have had his teeth clenched tight.

 

He felt her quivering form, so small in his grasp, and began to realize that she wasn't shaking nearly as badly as he was.

 

Though he told himself it was too soothe his Soul Mate, the truth was that when he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, it was to anchor himself to reality. He wouldn't let himself slip back into _then._

 

She wasn't wearing any glasses, and so as he held her unblinking gaze, there was absolutely nothing between them. He didn't know what he was presenting, but she took it without pause and he didn't hold back.

 

He didn't have the capacity.

 

His muscles wanted to tense, but were held at bay by the soft form weighing him down.

 

_'Rowan is not made for fighting. She is not the enemy.'_

His hands ached for a weapon, but settled for small rib cage beneath his palms.

 

_'She would destroy no one, but he could destroy her.'_

His eyes screamed a challenge, but hers offered solace.

 

_'Rowan could never hurt him. She'd never tried. She never would.'_

She was the opposite of everything he'd trained to fight, and so even as the darkness threatened to tear him apart from the edges of his psyche, he held on. Rowan's warmth would always be his beacon.

 

"We need to talk about this," she pressed, though her words were thickened by tears she wouldn't quite let fall.

 

He searched there eyes that he never wanted to leave him, and acknowledged the fear in them.

 

"Okay."

 

Her hands tightened, and he almost hoped she drew blood. He needed to reminder that she was real.

 

"You need to talk to Tim."

 

He wouldn't deny her anything.

 

"Okay."

 

Her eyes flickered for the first time, and he frowned at the movement.

 

"A- and.... And you both need to talk to someone. Someone who can help."

 

His hackles rose at that.

 

"Rowan I'm not-"

 

"No! No... I can't... We can't do this Dami... You two can't keep everything to yourselves and then come to me when it gets too bad. I don't have the answers to everything..."

 

He tightened his grip on her waist.

 

"I never said you did."

 

The look in her eyes was unreadable, and he almost didn't _want_ to figure it out.

 

"No... No I suppose you didn't..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about any errors. Posting this late at night :p


	33. Damian's Poll

Yo, Dami's poll is up. His songs are Reverse the Curse by Escape the Fate, Love Don't Die by the Fray, Demons by Imagine Dragons, and Never Stop (Wedding Version) by Safety Suit.

Sum Of Our Parts by Mary Lambert won out for Rowan. Her are the Lyrics:

This is my skin that I've never fit in  
I was born the queen of nowhere  
This is how it begins  
I wonder is this your life  
Were you raised in deep water  
Are they pushing you down  
Are you gonna push harder

I want to know who ever broke you  
I want to know how you can grow bigger  
Don't go looking for some kind of rescue  
You are the only one who can save you

We are, we are more than our scars  
We are, we are more than the sum of our parts  
We are, we are more than our scars  
We are, we are more than the sum of our parts

I didn't know I was a phoenix  
Till I learned how to speak  
Even with ashes in my mouth  
I was still born to breath  
I wonder are you like me  
Were you left in the fire  
Are you raising yourself  
Above your father's empire

I want to know who ever broke you  
I want to know how you can grow bigger  
Don't go looking for some kind of rescue  
You are the only one who can save you

We are, we are more than our scars  
We are, we are more than the sum of our parts  
We are, we are more than our scars  
We are, we are more than the sum of our parts

(I burn bright)  _[x3]_  
Look how bright we are  
Look at all the things we have come from  
Sometimes it hurts when you become them  
Sometimes I bury myself in my own wreckage and  
Don't want to come out  
Which part of you is still in the wreckage?  
Which part of you clipped your own wings?  
Which part of you will begin at your own end?  
Which part of you will you let live again?

We are, we are more than our scars  
We are, we are more than the sum of our parts  
We are, we are more than our scars  
We are, we are more than the sum of our parts

More than our scars  
More than the sum of our parts

More than our scars  
More than the sum of our parts

Iris by The GooGoo Dolls won out for Tim. Here are the lyrics:

And I'd give up forever to touch you

'Cause I know that you feel me somehow  
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
And I don't wanna go home right now

And all I can taste is this moment  
And all I can breathe is your life  
When sooner or later it's over  
I just don't wanna miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming  
Or the moment of truth in your lies  
When everything feels like the movies  
Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive

And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am

And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am

And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am

I just want you to know who I am  
I just want you to know who I am  
I just want you to know who I am

Please go vote guys, only nine people voted for Ro, and seventeen for Tim. Thanks,and Hopefully I should have another chapter by the end of October. I dont really 


	34. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now about this chapter: I wasn’t really into writing it. Does that show? Who knows. I really just wanted to get to the next two chapters, but I felt like this needed to be here. But good news! THE NEXT UPDATE WILL BE A DOUBLE UPDATE. It’s fun times in the next two chapters, but because there will be two, it might be a while before I update again. I know I said that with this, but I hate myself so I wrote fanfiction instead of all the other shit I needed to do. Throw me into a bridge.
> 
> Anway, please enjoy.

__

He was in SanFrancisco when he got the call. Not for good, and not for long, but he wasn't _with them_ , and so when Dick called him and said that he needed to come home immediately because his girlfriend (Who had told him anyway?) had brought Damian home looking like hell had warmed over, he felt an overwhelming amount of guilt.

 

He'd gone to tie up loose ends, more than anything. He'd left his team abruptly and on a sour note, and he could acknowledge that maybe that wasn't the best move. He couldn't, however, explain the situation to them any further than 'Robin had been hurt, and they needed time.'

 

He couldn't exactly tell them that he needed time too, because then he'd have to explain why.

 

He'd expected accusations, anger; any number of things really. He'd gotten understanding instead, and that alone reminded him that his team weren't just his _team._ They were his friends. The fact that they didn't follow him home meant nothing, because everything they'd gone through together assured that they'd always have a bond. The Teen Titans were a clashing group of people for sure, but he'd found that sometimes differences came together to form the best of things.

 

Dick wouldn't tell him what was wrong; only that Alfred had found them sitting on the stairs. Damian wouldn't tell them what had happened, and Rowan said even less.

 

Really, it was as he was taking another sudden leave that he was reminded that he did, in fact, still have friends who cared about him.

 

"Tim, what's going on with you?"

 

Tim had been moving fast to get to the jet, but as always, Bart was faster.   Red and yellow blurred in front of him, and he was _almost_ stopped in his tracks. Their shoulders brushed almost harshly as Tim passed one of his closest friends.

 

"I just have a lot going on right now," he said.

 

After years of friendship, he owed Bart at least that.

 

"Is it anything we could help with? You know you don't have to do _everything_ alone."

 

Tim sighed, shaking his head.

 

"It's personal."

 

He only realized how cold he was being when a hand wrapped around his bicep and he was pulled to a stop.

 

When he turned to his friend, he wasn't looking at Kid Flash any longer, but into the yellow eyes of Bart Allen.

 

"I can do personal. You don't have to keep so much to yourself you know; all you're doing is worrying us."

 

The thing about Bart was that for all of his excitable energy and fun loving nature, he could be shockingly perceptive when he had the mind to be. He was generally a whirlwind of fast words and even faster movements, so for Bart to have come to him so straightforward and carefully meant he thought something was truly wrong.

 

Given everything that had been happening lately, it wasn't exactly the worst response.

 

Deciding that they were far enough away from the others, Tim but the bullet and finally decided to let go.

 

"It's just... Damian. It's Damian."

 

Bart finally released his arm, laughing as he did so.

 

"Isn't it always about him?"

 

Tim shook his head and turned away to gaze out at the water. One of the perks of the tower's location was that there was always something nice to look at.

 

"No. It's not."

 

This time, it was about Rowan too.

 

"Seriously man, what's going on with you? You've been weird all year. One moment you're fine, and the next you're not talking to anyone but you look like you have a hell of a lot to say."

 

Tim had to disagree there; it wasn't that he had a lot to say. No, it was more that he had a hell of a lot to think about.

 

"Damian and I- well we’ve actually got each other’s marks and we’ve been having... Relationship issues."

 

He waited for Bart's response with baited breath, not quite knowing what to think when the other teen broke out laughing.

 

"That's it? _Relationship issues_?"

 

Tim was only _slightly_ offended.

 

“Maybe not telling you was the right idea.”

 

That harsh words didn’t exactly sober Bart, but it did slow his laughter.

 

“No- Tim it’s not that. I kind of figured you two were together a long time ago. That whole love hate thing you two have going on is kind of hard to watch, honestly.”

 

“What love hate-,“ he began, but after seeing the look his friend was giving him, he thought better of it,” -you know what? Never mind.”

 

Rowan had teased him enough about his interactions with Damian, and at this point he wasn’t really in any position to say anything.

 

“Yeah, exactly. So what has he done this time that’s got you all torn up?”

 

If he could, he would have sat down and explained himself to one of the few people who probably knew him best. As it was, he was running low on both time _and_ patience.

 

“It’s not what he did, Bart. It’s what happened to him. That last attack on the city? He got hurt really badly during it, and-“ he wasn’t quite sure if he was ready to tell people about her yet, but even he couldn’t keep everything to himself,”- I don’t think our second Soul Mate is handling things so well either.”

 

If Bart had been handling the situation well before, than he was practically mastering it when he didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. It wasn’t uncommon to have more than one Soul Mate, but it didn’t exactly happen to _everyone_ either.

 

“Did you already-“

 

"-know? Yes I did. I mean I figured you had two since you wear two camo patches."

 

Tim wanted to smack himself because _of course._

 

Most of the team wore small patches that melded to the skin and changed tone in order to hide their Soul Marks, as displaying the unique identifiers wasn't exactly the best thing to be doing when you're in the hero business. At this point, Bart was probably one of the few people that had actually seen him switch out his patches. While they were highly hygienic and completely water proof, it still wasn't a good idea to wear them for too long. There were patches that were designed for continuous wear, but Tim had never been too inclined to them.

 

Bart on the other hand, was all for them. Tim had only ever seen him change his patch once, which was the only reason he knew the other boy even had a mark. Tim could see why he even bothered with such a long term solution considering the fact that his mark was actually on his face.

 

"So?"

 

Tim was reminded once again that Bart wasn't exactly one for patience as he was pulled away from his thoughts.

 

"So what?"

 

Bart rolled his eyes and flicked a reddish lock of hair out of his field of vision. Tim would never understand why he cut the back of his hair short and kept the front long if all it did was get in his face.

 

"Who's you're second Soul Mate?"

 

He should have seen the question coming. It was a miracle that Bart hadn't asked before, honestly.

 

"You remember Rowan?"

 

Bart's eyes merely flickered in thought as he quickly sorted through his memories.

 

"Small girl who makes the food?"

 

Tim couldn't help but chuckle at the simple description, even as his mind continued to tell him to get on with it so he could go see what was wrong with Damian.

 

Bart had heard about Rowan often enough, but the closest he'd ever come to meeting her were through the sweets Tim sometimes kept at the manor. The last time Bart had been over, Tim had managed to get a blackberry pie from Rowan to take home with him. He'd planned on taking Bart by the shop, but it had never happened.

 

"Yeah, that would be her."

 

Bart seemed as surprised with the information as he had been when Tim had admitted to Damian being his first Soul Mate, which was actually not at all.

 

"I could see it."

 

Tim was incredulous. It had taken _him_ some time to see it.

 

"Really?"

 

Bart shrugged.

 

"Information's all there; I just never had a reason to piece it together. You spent a lot of time with her in Gotham and you always talked to her while you were here."

 

Of course Bart remembered that. The impossibly fast auburn haired boy didn't let himself forget much of anything these days.

 

"Yeah well, she got her marks a while ago and we've just been trying to deal with it."

 

Tim finally decided that he needed to get going, and Bart kept pace with him as he began walking again.

 

"Is she really that much trouble?"

 

Rowan wasn't as much trouble as she was a puzzle that didn't want to be put together.

 

“No. Not by herself, at least.”

 

Bart began what was for him, and extremely slow backwards jog so that they could be face to face as they moved.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

As he thought about the situation he had waiting for him at home, Tim couldn’t help but sigh. He was tired; in more ways than one.

 

“It’s complicated.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

She hadn’t said anything since she’d come home with him, and though she was normally quiet, it worried him. Usually her silences were accompanied by random touches and assorted looks. He attributed the fact that she hadn’t yet let go of him to her tactile nature, and was thankful for it.

 

He wasn’t exactly too keen on letting her go at the moment, either. He hadn’t meant for her to see him like that, which was why he’d stopped spending the night in the first place. The only reason he’d chanced it was because Tim had been gone for nearly three days, and he hadn’t experienced any of his dreams so he figured it was fine. Damian should have known better. He knew she wouldn’t handle it well, but he never could have predicted her reaction.

 

He never wanted to see her like that again, to see the fear.

 

The flinch and high pitched squeak that immediately followed his thoughts did two things: it scared the ever living hell out of him, and then told him he was squeezing his much smaller companion far too tightly.

 

She still refused to speak, and he blamed that on the fact that his family kept coming bye to check on them. True he didn’t exactly look his best, but he was _fine._ The true reason his Father had called Tim so fast was because after having the smaller girl drag him home in the middle of the night, it was becoming increasingly hard to keep their relationship to themselves.

 

_‘When Tim gets home, they’ll all leave me alone.’_

They’d be too caught up in having the inevitable Soul Mate discussion to bother him about a few measly nightmares. He was not the only one in the manor that experienced them.

 

“Rowan you do realize we don’t have to stay on the stairs?”

 

The only sound she made was a cross between an irritated groan and tired huff.

 

Then the Tim he could hear Tim approaching them, and nothing much mattered anymore.

 

 

 “What happened?” Tim demanded, for once getting straight to the point.

 

Rowan managed to speak before he did, punctuating the importance of what she had to say by elbowing him in the side so that he wouldn’t speak over her.

 

She directed her words at Tim, but looked at him as she spoke.

 

“I have to go.”

 

Really, the four words shouldn’t have affected him as much as they did.

 

“Rowan…” he pleaded, simply trying to get the girl to do something _his_ way for once.

When she looked at him with an apology in her eyes, anger tried to bubble up within him. He just wanted her to _stay._

 

But things with Rowan rarely went as he wanted them to, and so he prepared himself to watch her walk away.

 

Her fingers twitch around his bicep.

 

“Damian-“

 

Her eyes took a quick glance around the room, but he had no idea what she’d seen as he refused to let her out of his sight. By the way her voice lowered; however, he figured she was just intimidated by his family. He swore he was going to beat Jason to a pulp for hovering so ominously in the shadows. He had to choose the _one_ night Rowan had decided to make a fuss to be home.

 

“You know I shouldn’t have left in the first place… Mama and Gran have been calling me none stop… If I’m not home…”  


The thought of seeing her guardians angry _right then_ was not a pleasant one.

 

_‘But maybe…’_

The feeling of Tim’s arm around his shoulders broke him from his thoughts, and was the only thing that kept him from lunging at Rowan when she untangled his arm from his.

 

Perhaps lunging wasn’t the exact reaction he would have had, but it was close.

 

“I’ll take you home, Ro,” Tim said quietly.

 

Damian immediately shot him a look because he may have been willing to let Rowan go, but there was _no way_ Tim was going to leave him too. He needed at least one of them. And it most definitely was not because he was still reeling from his dream.

 

No, that wasn’t that at all.

 

Apparently having seen the look on his face, Rowan shook her head.

 

“I’ll walk.”

 

Both of them stood at that.

 

“You’re not walking,” he bit out.

 

“Rowan seriously, I can give you a ride,” Tim put in.

 

Instead of stepping back at their outright aggression, Rowan did something that told him she was more stressed than she let on.

 

She stood her ground.

 

“No.”

 

Damian found himself stepping forward and into her space before his conscious even approved the action. The feeling in the air was electric as irate green met stubborn brown, and Rowan was lucky Stephanie’s loud voice was able to cut through it and save her. She was damn _lucky._ Damian wasn’t in the mood for compromise.

 

“I’ll take her!”

 

Rowan whipped around to stare with the rest of them, and Stephanie stood tall under their gazes.

 

“Really Brown? How about you-“

 

Rowan had stretched up on her toes to cover his mouth even as she nodded her head.

 

“That’s fine.”

 

Then she followed the blonde girl out of the room and Damian could feel the suffocating presence of a thousand questions from every male authority figure he’d ever respected.

 

Damian, still not quite willing to let her go so easily, followed with Tim at his heels.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Tim was impressed with how much ground she managed to cover using her short, quick little strides.

 

"Rowan-“

 

The girl in question spun on her heels and glared as Stephanie said something about going to find her keys.

 

“Don’t ‘Rowan’ me!”

 

She bit back fast, and that was how he knew he was pushing her into the corner. Her chest was heaving, her eyes were watering, and her little fists were clenched tight and he knew: they were entering a whole new territory. He should have known that trying to enter a relationship with Rowan would open up a whole new side to her personality.

 

People were not made to stay the same. They grew, they changed, and they adapted to new situations. By trying to move out of the platonic aspect of her life and into the romantic area, he was pushing boundaries she probably never even knew she had. She was probably stressed, and searching for a way to respond that her past experiences could not provide her. She was looking at the situation from the perspective of a close friend, not a girlfriend. She couldn’t understand why they were both reacting so strongly to her actions.

 

She was warm by nature, but also undoubtedly introverted. Getting under her shell didn’t take much time, but you had to work for it. When they’d first met, he’d had the advantage of being with Damian, who she already knew. On top of that, she’d been young and much more susceptible to new people. Now, he had no such advantage.

 

She’d never dated, and as far as he knew, she’d never even had a crush another person. She’d spent all of her time buried in her books or with her friends, which didn’t leave much room for anything else. It was funny really, considering how many times she’d seen him and Damian fumble through relationships. The irony of her ever growing knowledge of sex wasn’t lost on him either. She was quiet about it, but she’d said some things that had him wondering if she really _was_ the biggest pervert between the three of them.

 

Then of course he’d watch her blush at the littlest thing, and he let it go.

 

As he watched her face heat as she searched for answers she wasn’t going to find, he knew he couldn’t let it go. He was going to have to work hard in order to straighten out their relationship, but then again, so was she.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Damian watched with growing ire as Tim let their Soul Mate work herself into a flustered mess. He was always trying to figure her out; to let her solve her problems in a way he thought would work for her.

 

It was ridiculous because even after nearly seven years, he still hadn’t realized that Rowan didn’t _need_ to be figured out. Tim was the one who was always scheming, always the one who needed to be watched and dissected.

 

Rowan just simply _was._

 

She needed blunt words and quick actions, not the drawn out game that Tim always tried to play.

 

“Rowan _what are you thinking_?”

 

Asking her directly was the quickest way to confirm what her quick little mind was stuck on; whether she answered or not was another question.

 

Her gaze moved away from Tim and he could see the skittishness in her eyes. He’d have thought her weak for always wanting to run away if not for the fact that more often than not, she stayed anyway.

 

Then again, he might have called her stupid for putting herself in such compromising positions in the first place.

 

_‘She never could help it.’_

“I…”

 

Her quiet voice seemed loud with all the weight it carried, and he found himself counting every second Stephanie had been gone. Each moment was one less they had with Rowan.

 

He made eye contact with Tim, and the years they’d spent fighting together showed in the lightening quick conversation they managed to have without a single spoken word.

 

‘You’re the one who’s always been better at making her talk. Do it.’

 

The quick downward flicker of Tim’s eyes to Rowan’s tense form told him that Tim had gotten his message.

 

Damian was watching the older boy move in with narrowed eyes and a heavy heart. They shouldn’t have had to resort to such underhanded moves to make Rowan comfortable. Not so long ago she would have answered them without a second thought and they never would have had to touch the subject again.

 

_‘What did we do to you?’_

“Ro?” Tim murmured softly, hands picking up her own.

 

She looked up at him from beneath her glasses and allowed her hands to unclench and her fingers to spread so that they were palm to palm. Wide eyes narrowed and she pushed lightly against Tim’s hands even as uncertainty flitted across her face.

 

Damian took that as his cue to move in and he dropped into a low crouch beside her, noting that even then she wasn’t much taller than him. It was hard to believe that she’d once stood eye level with him.

Her breath was evening out as they simply stood in close quarters, not saying much of anything.

 

Carefully, Damian moved a free hand to rest on her waist, knowing she was truly calm again when she did nothing more than shoot him a warning glare.

 

When he glanced up at Tim, the older boy had smiled softly and nodded slightly at his next silent question.

 

‘Do we wait to talk to her?’

 

The yes was all he needed to tamp down the questions he had until she wasn’t quite so jumpy. They’d get her comfortable enough to share her thoughts with them again. Eventually.

 

For now they’d send her home with Stephanie, and handle the rest later.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

On the car ride home with Stephanie, Rowan learned a lot.

 

The first was that she needed to stop wearing rubber bracelets because she ended up digging through three of them with her nails in the first few minutes of the care ride.

 

The second thing she learned was that Stephanie Brown was nothing if not compassionate.

 

“I haven’t eaten dinner tonight. You want to stop and grab some pizza?”

 

Rowan would have said no any other time. Not only was she nervous as hell, but she had a strong feeling her Mama was going to scream her ear off when she got home _and_ take her phone.

 

But then Stephanie gave her a hopeful smile that sort of reminded her of  awkward not quite conversation she’d had with Cassandra, and Rowan felt like she could trust her. After all, Tim most certainly did. Besides, when she was younger Stephanie had always gone out of her way to be nice.

 

“Pepperoni?” she asked carefully, trying not to hunch into the car door too badly.

 

“Can we get a meat lovers?” Stephanie asked back, look entirely too hopeful.

 

Rowan’s stomach growled at that, and her fingers slowly slipped away from her bracelets.

 

_‘At least I’ll be well fed before Mama kills me.’_

“Let’s go for it,” she said with a tentative grin.

 

Stephanie lit up like a Christmas tree and Rowan swallowed down a squeal when the older girl swerved slightly.

 

“ _Finally._ Everyone always lectures me about the value of vegetables when I ask!”

 

 The laughter that spilled from her was completely natural, and it only rose in volume as Stephanie joined in with her. It was nice even if Rowan was sure that Stephanie was only going so far out of her way to put her at ease.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

By the time he was done conversing with his Father, Damian still had the feeling there was more to say. That alone set him on edge. They’d gone as far as addressing the fact that _yes_ Rowan was _his, yes_ she knew he was Robin, and _no_ he didn’t give a damn that she knew before he drew the line. Even after all that, his Father still hadn’t asked the most obvious question: What was going on between him and Tim?

 

Damian chalked it up to his Father’s blatant failure at anything that wasn’t justice and ignored it. He could tell with one look that pretty much everyone else knew anyway, so there wasn’t really a problem as far as he was concerned.

 

So, with his mind sharp and body tense from a conversation he'd never wanted to have, Damian met Tim's gaze head on when he found the older boy in his room. Tim was seated on his bed, elbows on his knees and hair disheveled from what he concluded was Tim's constant finger combing.

 

The tension in the room was just as thick as it had been with his Father. The only difference was that Tim probably already knew the majority of what needed to be said; he simply needed it to be said aloud.

 

Damian understood completely. Sometimes theory needed to be proven before it could feel real no matter how much support it was given in the mind. The best tacticians were the ones who allowed for the possibility of error, no matter how efficient the plan.

 

Though he was loath to admit it, Tim was nothing if not a great tactician.

 

Ignoring the need for a good spar to release the chaotic energy that had been steadily building in his body, he moved over to the bed and took a seat next to his Soul Mate.

 

Tim, of course, said nothing. The smart move was always to wait for your enemy to attack first. (In his opinion, sometimes the best move wasn't the most convenient one.)

 

The silence seemed to cut him in a way that a blade never could.

 

Despite this, Damian continued to sit still and focused on the sound of their breathing to ground himself. He knew the rhythmic in and out of each breath matched a heartbeat. Each heartbeat spoke of life.

 

Sometimes, just knowing the people he cared for were still alive was all he needed to be at peace. The funny thing was that a mere seven years before, he never would have realized that.  

 

With that in mind, he decided to take the incentive.

 

“She says I need to talk to someone about them.”

 

Tim fell back onto the bed and stared up at him, and Damian could see the utter exhaustion.

 

“About the dreams?”

 

Damian nodded and moved back to lay beside Tim.

“What do you think she’d say about your nightmares? Or Steph’s? Dick’s? Jason’s? Or even Alfred’s for that matter?”

 

Damian felt a sardonic smile settle on his face.

 

“The same thing she said to me, probably?”

 

They each turned their heads until they were almost nose to nose.

 

“And that would be?”

 

Damian snaked his arm around Tim’s shoulder and ignored the irritated look he received for his efforts.

 

“She says I need help; that I need to talk to someone.”

 

Tim laughed a little and Damian could feel the silky strands of Tim’s hair moving against his arm.

 

“She’s right.”

 

Damian closed his eyes, just for a second.

 

“Tt. Don’t you think I know that?”

 

Tim nodded.

 

“We all do, and that’s the thing. We’re heroes. We don’t need help; we’re the ones who help everyone else.”

 

Tim was only telling the truth, and perhaps that was why Gotham was still so dark. Even its heroes were damaged by life.

 

“Tell me about your dream next time?” Tim asked quietely.

 

Damian shrugged and his mind pushed back the image of high cheekbones and cold eyes. Tim was always trying to save the world, and he needed to learn that some things were best left to the person they belonged to. Sometimes he needed to take care of himself.

 

“Maybe.”

 

Damian held tight his Soul Mate, not quite willing to break the tranquil moment that had settled over them. They were two opposing forces, and though he enjoyed their back and forth, even he could appreciate times of quiet.

 

"Why do we keep hitting these walls?" Tim questioned.

 

Damian had no true answer, so he shrugged. Timothy Drake tried far too hard sometimes, and it was inevitable that he'd reach a road block somewhere.

 

"You can't save everyone, Tim."

 

Damian wished he could fight whatever demon's plagued his beloved, but even he wasn't that strong. He could admit that because he knew no one was.

 

"I can try," Tim refuted.

 

The sad thing was that Damian knew he would. Tim would push until he had nothing left, and then where would they be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any typos. Good? Bad? Scattered? Tell me what ya think guys :P


	35. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOOOO. DOUBLE UPDATE TIME DON’T LET THE CAPS LOCK FOOL YA IM DEAD INSIDE.   
> I tried really hard with these and I actually really like the chapters, and I hope you guys will too….  
> ))))   
> I wrote this hella faster than I thought I would jfc. Im so…so tired school is killing me throw me in the trash ugh.  
>  Also, if you guys ever want to talk about batfamily headcanons or if you have questions about the fic, my tumblr is ThePepperMama :P  
> Posting two at once is just so weird for me because I usually write two at once anyway so that I’ve started on the next chapter… But now that’s not a thing???? Ghiehgiwhig  
> Enjoy   
> Also, remember ‘Text.’ Is thought. I try to portray that, but I just wanted you guys to know that the stuff like that isn’t being spoken aloud.

_And all I know is_

_No one, no one lives forever_

_We will be remembered_

_For what we do right now_

Rowan's mouth moved silently as her music played, but her body was completely still. After all, the machine firing baseballs at her wasn't exactly keeping to the beat.

_Crack!_

The sound of Tatianna hitting the ball in the cage next to her was loud enough to penetrate the melody of her music, and Rowan grinned. If there was one thing she missed about playing for a team, it was the sound of her teammates playing alongside her.

_And baby I'm living louder_

_And dreaming longer, tonight_

_(We're living louder, we're living louder)_

_And baby I'm fighting harder_

_And loving stronger tonight_

_(We're loving stronger, we're loving stronger)_

New Years Eve had approached faster than Rowan could blink, it seemed, and her Gran and Mama had spent the week organizing their annual New Year’s Party. For as far back as she could remember, her Gran had closed shop on New Year’s Eve to invite her friends over and celebrate the incoming year.

Gran broke out her good Champaign stash, her Mama picked them out matching outfits, and Rowan helped clear the main dining area to accommodate the party atmosphere better. True, it was more of a ‘grown up’ type of thing, but that had never stopped Rowan from enjoying the extra special sweets her Gran managed to put out for her guests.

After Lucy and Tatianna had come over to hang out before everyone started their respective New Year’s events, they’d been sent out to pick up last minute supplies. Given that they had quite a bit of time left in the day, however, her Gran had said it was okay for them to stop at the cages for a bit of fun.

While her Mama had been fine with it on the condition that she be home in time to get dressed, Rowan had a feeling her Gran had only said yes because Lucy had been trying to get Rowan to take her to the cages for _months._ For some reason, the blonde loved seeing Rowan play. Since she'd dropped the sport, seeing her in the cages was apparently the next best thing.

Rowan couldn't exactly complain considering how much she enjoyed being there. Hell, teaching Lucy the proper stance and swing technique had been the highlight of their trip so far. Lucy actually wasn't half bad, either.

_'Cause we're all just kids_

_Who grew up way too fast_

_Yeah the good die young_

_But the great will always last_

_We're growing older_

_But we're all soldiers tonight_

The vibration of her phone in her pocket broke her trance, and she sighed as she stepped away from the ball's trajectory and lowered her bat.

Rowan had given them all an hour to mess around, but when she picked up her phone to turn the alarm off, she noticed that they actually had five minutes left still. The rapid vibration of her phone had been due to the six texts she had from Damian, and to her immense surprise, Stephanie.

Granted Stephanie _had_ only sent two texts.

Deciding that Damian could wait, Rowan checked Stephanie’s texts first. She had initially felt awkward in the older girl’s presence, but somewhere through a rather delicious pizza, she’d learned that Stephanie wasn’t the worst person to be around. She had a sort of easy nature to her that Rowan found comfortable, and they’d ended up discussing various makeup brands, oddly enough. Stephanie hadn’t said a thing about her knowing so much about cosmetics but not wearing them too often, and Rowan had appreciated it. She’d never understand why people got so wound up about who wore what, when, at what age, and how often. She liked the theory of makeup more than she liked wearing it, and Stephanie had respected that.

She’d also let Rowan go through the rather impressive collection of bright colors she had in her makeup bag at the time, and it had been an overall enjoyable experience.

The first text had been a simple ‘Hey rowan J’, while the second text had her wondering how the rest of her last day of the year was going to play out.

‘don’t kno if the boys asked yet but I was wondering if u were coming to the manor tonight? Alfred likes to have exact headcounts’

“Ergh.”

The sound was made for no other reason than because it effectively portrayed her feelings, and it continued to do so as she finally looked at Damian’s texts.

‘Are you busy today?’

‘If so, reschedule whatever it is you have to do.’

‘Never mind, I handled it.’

‘My Father is having a gala to bring in the New Year. Tim and I will pick you up at 10:30, as that is the time your mother approved.’

‘Be ready.’

From what she could gather, Damian had invited her to a stuffy rich people party, gotten her Mama’s permission, and answered his own question without even waiting for her input.

_‘Why am I not surprised?’_

She spent a few moments wondering if she really wanted to put herself through the effort of figuring out whether Damian was being aggravating or actually asking her to come over before deciding on taking the easier route.

‘What if I dont want to go’

With Damian, the easier route was always to be difficult right back even though they both knew she was probably going to do what he wanted to do anyway.

‘Your attire won’t be an issue, so don’t bother changing. I have to go prepare now.  I will see you tonight.

_‘Aaand one hit K.O.’_

It turned out Damian wasn’t in the mood to play if his immediate deflection was anything to go by. Her jest had been shot down without an acknowledgement.

The rattling of the fence to her left drew Rowan’s attention, and she turned off her music as Lucy continued to bang loudly on the barrier. She was going to get them kicked out and all Rowan could do was roll her eyes.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“Why’d you stop?”

Rowan just took in Lucy’s gap toothed grin and shouldered her bat before moving towards the exit.

“It’s time to go.”

At the moment, she had more important things to do than worry about where Damian was trying to drag her. Her Mama was planning some lighter makeup more suited to her Gran’s style, but it would still require some time for them all to get ready.

And then there was her _hair._ It was going to be down for the night, and her Mama had drawn up a very specific attack plan for getting her frizz to settle into her natural curls.

_‘Uggghhhhh.’_

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Rose Marie Chase was a shrewd woman.  She knew people liked to think her sweet, understanding, and just a little too permissive, but she hadn’t lasted over six decades by letting the world walk all over her.

Her husband, bless his soul, used to say that it was her core of steel that drew him to her. She’d always laughed, pleased that he loved what she considered her best attribute.

So, when two boys who thought way too highly of themselves walked into her shop, she fought the urge to reach for a cigarette and pinned them with her gaze. She’d brought lesser men to their knees with crimson on her lips and a smoke between her fingers so there was no way she was letting them go quite yet.

They’d been hanging around her grandbaby for years, and she’d never spoke against them because _everyone_ needed best friends and they’d filled that role for her youngest girl. But now they were trying to fall into a different part of her baby’s life and not speaking was entirely different not _seeing._ She’d helped her daughter raise Rowan for almost fifteen years and the girl hadn’t gotten her observation skills from nowhere.

She’d seen her baby find a lost little boy who was angry at the world and another who wanted to hold it on his shoulders.

She’d seen _them_ find a shy little girl who kept far too much to herself.

She’d seen them come together to form a friendship that by all accounts made no sense.

She’d watch them fight, and grow, and be a little too silly, play a little too rough, and she’d smiled all the way because her family wasn’t perfect but they were _happy_. Joy was a hard commodity to find in life, especially in a place like Gotham.

Life, however, was not so easy and she knew just how easily it could all fall apart.

When she was young and in love she thought that there was nothing in the world strong enough to knock her down, but then she’d turned out to be barren and she’d been _devastated._ Back then, not being able to have children was one of the greatest tragedies a woman could face.

She now knew that the idea of defining a woman based on her abilities to give life was archaic, but it had taken a rambunctious little girl with too much sass to teach her that. She knew Miranda was hers the moment she saw the girl, and she could honestly say that raising her daughter had been among the happiest portions of her life.

Hell, she knew that if it wasn’t for Miranda, and later Rowan, she wouldn’t have had the strength to push her way through the years. When her husband had died, she’d been devastated and it was only by the grace of God and the love her daughter and grandchild that kept her going.

Even that, however, almost hadn’t been enough. Miranda, her strong, beautiful girl, wasn’t quite the woman Rose had raised anymore.

The universe had taken her own Soul Mate, and Rose had been outraged to find out that it had done the same to her daughter.

Miranda was a little wild, entirely stubborn, and sometimes hot headed, but she hadn’t deserved to be bound to a man who would never love her back. As far as Rose was concerned, he was lost simply because he couldn’t realize what he was missing by leaving his Soul Mate behind.

He treated her like a mistress, and Rose would never forgive him for that. She’d never forgive Mitchel Hollington for being her daughter’s other half even as he broke her.

The grudge was part of the reason why she’d been so scared on Rowan’s fourteenth birthday. She’d never tell Rowan or Miranda how terrified she’d been that her precious grandbaby would be hurt because she knew that Rowan wouldn’t accept her Soul Mate at face value.

She knew because Rowan was a smart little thing, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out Miranda’s story. Not if the facts were right in front of you.

Even if she had been in the hospital, and even if Rowan had been scared to death because of that, Rose still knew that the night she’d been admitted had not scared Rowan so completely as her Soul Marks. Even if she had good reason, when Rowan had found her way back to the hospital room after quite some time, Rose knew that the redness in her eyes was not because she was afraid of losing her Gran.

Mitchel had left bitter feelings in the Chase household, and they rarely spoke of Soul Marks. Miranda ignored hers for the most part, Rose could only reminisce, and Rowan simply did not show hers at all. But Rose _knew._ She knew in the pain the absence of the two Wayne sons brought her delicate granddaughter. She knew, and it scared her because Rowan was her pride and joy and she didn’t not want the brightness her family brought her to fade.

Rose had watched Damian and Tim’s interactions with Rowan for years, and she knew they would not intentionally hurt her. She also knew that no one could control everything, and so when life had come between them Rose had noticed the disconnect between the three when they had come back.

Something had happened. What, she didn’t know, but she knew it _had_ happened. Damian asked for her permission more, Tim skated around her presence, and Rowan always looked like she was avoiding the problem.

Anyone else wouldn’t have seen it, but Rose had raised Rowan, and God damn it she had played a part in the lives of Damian and Tim as well. When they were in her house, they went by her rules and they’d trailed after her granddaughter for years.

Despite this, they didn’t just get a free pass. She had to make sure they knew she was watching. Rose had to make sure they knew that this time, it wasn’t a free for all. They weren’t stealing her baby’s time for the hell of it; this time they were playing for her heart.

“Timothy, Damian, come here for a second.”

Tim looked apprehensive at her use of his full name, as he should. Damian looked above it all, as always, and she wished she’d taken a switch to his backside while she had the chance. He was quite large now, and she missed the days when he’d been tiny and she could whack him on the hand when he got too rough with Rowan.

“Hi Mrs. Chase. Thank you for letting us take her out for a while,” Tim said, polite as always.

Rose nodded to him and ignored the fact that Damian hadn’t said much to her at all, and was instead checking his watch.

“You’re welcome, now were you two ever going to ask permission to date my Granddaughter, or were you both just planning on doing this behind my back?”

Both boys immediately snapped to attention and she donned a grin she knew made her look like a lioness ready to go in for the slaughter.

Ah, how she’d _missed_ flexing her claws.

“Excuse me?” Damian inquired.

She leaned over the register turned bar area and tapped her nails against the countertop. She kept them pointed for a reason.

“Come now, gentlemen. My daughter may be oblivious, but I’m far too old to not know when a couple of young men come sniffing around my babies. You two have never taken her for New years before.”

Tim had a hell of a poker face, but she’d been watching him put it on for way too many years. He looked nervous.

_‘Good.’_

“Rose, we don’t have any ill intentions. Nothing’s going on.”

Rose braced on her five inch heels and centered herself. Damian was going to wish he hadn’t just said that to her. Oh how she loved being a grandma.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

“ _Really?_ ” the woman finally asked, dropping all pretenses, “I have raised that little girl for the past fifteen years, and you two think I wouldn’t notice the _slightest_ difference in her behavior? Hell, if her _sneeze_ was off by even the littlest bit, you better believe I’d be on that faster than white on rice. “

 

Damian was starting to feel mildly uncomfortable with the way Rose was beginning to go in on them, and he tried to shut her down before she could go any farther.

 

“I understand that but-“

 

Rose’s eyes seemed to catch fire and he was sure that he wasn’t the only one that felt the snap in her words.

 

“Now you listen here! I have been dealing with your smart ass mouth for the past seven years and I haven’t taken a switch to your behind yet, but you keep trying to pull the wool over my eyes and see where it gets you.”

 

Rose only paused to lock him in a hard stare, and even if she was hardly taller than her granddaughter, Damian still felt like she was somehow looking down on him. He told himself that her tall heels helped. Beside him, Tim was struggling to hold back laughter.

 

Damian shot him a warning glare, and was gearing up to tell the older boy off when Rose beat him to it.

 

“And you!” she started, startling Tim out of any mirth he’d been feeling,” Timothy I swear you better wipe that smile off of your face before I do it for you! You should know better than to sit here and try to pretend like you two haven’t been dancing around my grand baby like a couple a damn fools. Nearly a grown ass man and you’re sitting here trying to play me like I haven’t been in this world for 63 years!”

 

Tim threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender and took a step back.

 

“I’m sorry Mrs. Chase we-“

 

“Oh no you don’t! You better bite your tongue young man. I ain’t taking none of that fake apologizing bull. We both know you two have been doing all kinds of stuff you shouldn’t have been getting up to. You think I don’t know who Ro’s up talkin’ to at all hours of the night? You think I don’t know who she’s always trying out new recipes for?”

 

For once, Damian had nothing to say. Rose had never _said_ anything before, so to hear her finally coming out with her observations was… Disturbing, to say the least. He was beginning to wonder just how much the elderly woman had let them get away with.

 

_‘And just how much did she not know about that would get them more than a stern talking to? Why am I even worried?’_

With that thought, Damian squared his shoulders and was surprised at how much he’d straightened up. There was no _way_ a few harsh words from a frail old woman had him cowering like some common fool. (Except Rose was the grandmother of his Soul Mate so maybe her opinion had a _little_ more weight to it than the rest of the populace. Maybe.)

 

“To be fair,” he argued,” we’ve only gone on one actual date.”

 

Rose snorted, and the coarse sound was out of place coming from the normally elegant woman.

 

“Face the music boys; you three have been stuck together since Tim was 12 and you were 10.”

 

“We haven’t been _dating_ since then,” Tim tried to defend.

 

Rose shot them a look that he’d often seen on Rowan, and he honestly thought she was going to slap either one or both of them.

 

“Boy, I honestly don’t know _what_ you all have been doin’ but whatever this is-“

 

She gave them both a deliberate look and gestured vaguely in their direction.

 

“- it was going _somewhere._ So either you two tell me what you all are planning to do, or you leave now because I’ll be damned if that girl doesn’t have your words on her somewhere and we all know what that means.”

 

Tim looked as if he had _actually_ gotten a hand across the face and Damian liked to think he at least hadn’t looked that affronted. (He was wrong.)

 

“Rowan hasn’t even told _us_ what her marks are,” Tim blurted.

 

_‘Yes, Tim. Tell everyone about that.’_

Damian knew that in that moment, Tim had finally forgotten to think when Rose gave them a sly smile that reminded him, once again, of his small Soul Mate.

 

“You two know that if her normal clothes don’t show them, no one has seen them but thank you for confirming my suspicions. And no, before you ask, Miranda doesn’t know. My girl probably doesn’t even want to think of Ro like that at this point. Now ask me the damn question and take my granddaughter out of her before the Champaign really starts flowing.”

 

Damian had the sneaking suspicion that if they took concerned grandparents to interrogate villains, the deed would be done in no time.

 

Shaking his head, Damian ignored his quickly growing headache.

 

“May we have your permission to take your granddaughter on a romantic outing for New Years?”

 

He honestly never imagined himself in such a situation, but he didn’t feel prepared to deal with Rose if she went further with her rant.

 

The proud woman sniffed delicately and Damian just knew she’d been the type of woman who sat in dark clubs ready to rip the heart out of many man who dared approach them.

 

“Timothy?”

 

Tim looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights even as he echoed Damian, word for word.

 

“Good. Now you two know when to have her back and I swear if you I find out about any funny business, I will castrate you both. Now have a lovely night, and a happy New Year!”

 

As Rose moved behind the counter her long skirt swished and the clicking of her heels seemed to echo despite the sounds of merriment all around them.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Tim almost hadn’t wanted to go and get her; not with her Gran watching him like a hawk.

 

He’d always known that there was more to Rose than she liked to show, but having her dig her claws into _him_ was something he never wanted to experience again. She had that sort of sharply feminine edge to her that he’d seen on a lot of villainesses.

 

He shivered at the thought, and then nearly had a seizure when he actually saw Rowan.

 

The passage through the kitchen had been open so people could go up into the main apartment, and that’s where Tim found Rowan.

 

It wasn’t so much what she was doing as what she was _wearing._ She generally dressed comfortably, jeans, basketball shorts, and t-shirts dominating her wardrobe. He _had_ seen her in some more feminine clothing, but nothing she’d ever thrown on before compared to the soft pink outfit she’d put on for New Years.

 

Subconsciously, he knew he’d seen the same heels on her Gran when he’d first walked in, but somehow the five inch powder pink pumps didn’t do the older woman the same justice they did for Rowan. The tall heels made her legs go on forever and her _stockings_.

 

He felt his stomach flip when she shifted to stand up and sheer white _thigh highs_ gave way to smooth brown. She’d told him stories about practicing how to walk in heels with her Mama and Gran, but nothing could have prepared him for the grace she showed in simply standing up from a couch. The floral chiffon of her skirt settled around her mid thigh and _fuck he really needed to stop looking at her legs._

“Hey Tim,” a small voice greeted, forcing his eyes to immediately snap up.

 

Her hair was down and lacking the frizz he was used to, but the curls still fell wildly around her shoulders and face. Doe eyes lined with a rich brown stared back at him, and her pink painted lips twisted up in a smile. The rose colored eye shadow shimmered about her eyes, not managing to draw away from their size at all.

 

Before he could stop himself, he was trailing his gaze from the curve of her waist where her skirt settled to the fall of the fabric over her hips to the rounded slope of her thighs and-

 

 _‘Mrs. Chase is going to kill me and this is going to be a long night.’_  

 

He hoped beyond hope that she didn’t notice the way he watched her walk on their way out because he was not going to mention it to anyone ever.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

She’d honestly left her house with the thought that if she had to speak to anyone she was going to jump off of the nearest balcony.

 Her only saving grace was that she didn’t actually end up in the ball room where she was sure masses of people she had no intention of ever associating with roamed.

The moment they’d gotten to the manor, Rowan had been assaulted with the sound of hundreds of voices conversing over the tones of a live quartet. It was an odd experience considering the only other time she’d heard the manor so lively was the day she met Damian.

The thought made her heart clench, so in order to shake off the feeling she readily followed Tim past the ballroom entrance without question.

To her surprise, they entered the service kitchen and Rowan’s brow rose when Tim picked up a covered tray while Damian acquired what looked like three bottles of Champaign. All around them people bustled to and fro, making Rowan feel eight years old again and just as small.

_‘Jesus Christ there are so many people and they’re all looking and-‘_

Slender fingers slipped into her own, and when Rowan looked up into warm blue eyes her thoughts were silenced. Damian came up on her other side and bumped his forearm against her shoulder.

“Tt. You are not a scared little mouse caught in a trap. Stop behaving like one.”

Rowan pierced her lips at that and popped him on the arm. He wasn’t allowed to say anything since he had around nine inches of height on her _already_ and was nearly twice her weight in muscle. His build was starting to get stupid, honestly.

From the corner of her eye she took in Tim’s own slender form and decided that the height he had on her was stupid too, and she just _knew_ the muscles under his well tailored tux were nothing to scoff at either.

She grabbed at Tim’s sleeve when he made to leave, and let him pull her along.

“Where’re we going?” she murmured as she peaked around his tall form.

People mostly stopped to ask either he or Damian if they needed anything without saying a word to her, which was just fine as far as she was concerned.

Tim grinned down at her as a particularly harassed looking server stopped Damian and handed him a slip of paper.

“We figured you wouldn’t be interested in the socializing bit.”

_‘Good job. A plus for you guys on that one.’_

At least they had the sense not to drag her into a room full of judgmental people.

Before she knew it, Rowan was on a rather spacious balcony that boasted three comfortable looking chairs and a small table. She completely bypassed the furniture; instead leaning over the balcony to stare at the sky in wonder.

The stars were _beautiful._ Gotham usually gave off too much light to see them properly, and ever time she’d gone home with Damian or Tim, going outside to gaze at the stars had never been her priority.

 

When she glanced back, it was only long enough to realize that Tim had popped open one of the bottles and had produced a glass from somewhere. She figured it was okay, given the occasion. (Besides, if Bruce or Alfred really had a problem with it she was sure they would have instructed the staff _not_ to give the 18 year old alcohol.)

 

“Father has a firework show set up for midnight, and we thought that you might like to see it,” Damian added, voice ringing clear behind her.

There was a lot of ‘we’ going on there, and Rowan was beginning to wonder if they didn’t have something weird planned.

_‘I swear if this is their way of getting me back for causing a scene about Damian’s nightmares, I’m putting eggshells in the next batch of cookies I make them.’_

She was almost sure they’d have done anything to make her forget about what had happened with Damian, and that bothered her more than she’d like to admit. Clenching her jaw, she tried to push the mental mulling away. She was tired of contemplating things she didn’t truly have control over.

Then, of course, Damian had to go and find his father for some reason she wasn’t truly paying attention to, and she was left with Tim and her thoughts which were never a good combination. Really, they shouldn’t have gone and gotten her if they weren’t prepared for her mind to wonder to places no one wanted it at.

Biting her lip, Rowan dropped into the chair beside Tim and hesitantly asked something she wasn't even sure she had the right to.

"I understand why he didn't tell me about the nightmares, but why didn't you?"

His response was a lackluster shrug, and the fact that she seemed to be more worked up than he was irked her.

"I thought I had it handled, Ro."

She never even pretended to know what would come out of his mouth, and so she usually prepared herself for anything.

Still, she balled her fists in her skirt as hot flames rose within her and licked at her cheeks. For once, it had nothing to do with embarrassment. Her frustration was bubbling over as words poured from her mouth unbidden.

"That's the thing, he's not something to be 'handled'. Yes, he has issues, yes he needs help, but that's just it: he needs someone to be there for him and guide him along, not take over and try to force his problems away. You can't fix everything Tim, sometimes you just have to roll with it and hope it turns out okay."

For genius's, they were so _stupid_ sometimes.

_'You can't even handle yourself you pale, sleep deprived dumbass.'_

"Is that what you do?" he asked; head tilted and eyes gazing quizzically at her from beneath his inky fringe.

She laughed, not because it was funny, but because she didn't know what else to do.

"Do I have any other choice?"

He was silent after that.

Suddenly, Rowan heard the dulled sound of hundreds of voices counting down. Immediately, she shot up and grinned. Even as far away as they were, it was still easy to hear the guests of the party below them.

_’_ _10!’_

She couldn’t believe it was almost midnight already.

_‘_ _9!’_

It was almost a new year, and the thought was a heady one. So much had happened, and she knew that the next year would bring her so many more memories; some she was sure she wouldn’t even want. Life was funny that way.

_‘_ _8!’_

She felt one of her curls being tugged lightly, and she laughed as she leaned into Tim’s touch.

_‘_ _7!’_

It was odd not hearing her Mama and Gran’s voices as she joined the count, but it wasn’t bad.

_‘_ _6!’_

Tim’s voice melded with hers and she thought it was almost as weird as _not_ hearing her Mama and Gran’s voices. It was a good weird, though.

_‘_ _5!’_

She only missed Damian for a moment before realizing how happy he probably was to be celebrating with his dad. The boy thought he hid it well, but simply being in his father’s presence made him happy.

_‘_ _4!’_

Tim’s fingers moved farther into her hair. The _only_ reason she didn’t chide him was because she was too busy counting.

_‘_ _3!’_

Silly boy never could keep his hands out of _anyone’s_ hair, including his own.

_‘_ _2!’_

Her body thrummed in anticipation, caught up in the spirit of the evening as she was.

_‘_ _1!’_

Rowan watched as small rockets shot into the sky, the fireworks cracking harshly. The stars were beautiful for sure, but the fireworks in the sky made the view almost ethereal. It was as if the stars themselves were exploding, and not for the first time she wondered how destruction could be so beautiful. She didn’t think she’d seen anything so captivating before.

Of course Tim had to go and ruin everything she _thought_ she knew, because when she finally turned towards him, he was leaning down and his face was scant inches from her own.

Her breath caught, and her eyes went wide as she lost herself in the azure pools.

“Happy New Year,” he whispered.

Then he kissed her at midnight on New Year’s Eve.

Honestly, it wasn't magical.

He'd startled her, and so she'd immediately frozen on contact. His lips were soft against hers for sure, but if not for the angle of his head, she was sure that she would have bumped noses with him.

 _'We'd end up with sore noses that'd be so messed up,'_ her mind helpfully supplied. As her face heated and her heart tried to shoot out of her chest, she decided that people blanking out during a kiss was a freaking lie.

She couldn't _stop_ thinking.

_'I'm doing this wrong he's going to laugh oh my **god** we're kissing.'_

He didn't ravage her with his tongue like in her crappy romance novels, nor did he dominate her with his mouth. Timothy Drake kissed her chastely, sweetly.

His smooth lips moved lightly, letting her adjust to the feeling until she was finally able to tentatively mimic him. She didn't immediately pick it up; hell she was too nervous to try. But, she still sighed through her nose as fragile skin rubbed against fragile skin, and she thought that maybe, it wasn't so bad.

Then she realized that she wasn't breathing, and her sigh broke into a deep inhalation through her nose.

_'Please don't laugh oh my **god**.'_

His lips tasted bitter from the wine he'd been sipping, and she had to fight the urge to grimace. Despite this, however, she could still taste the underlying hint of something that was  oddly... Tropical, and that was entirely Tim. _That_ she enjoyed.

The admission made her eyes pop open as the reality of the situation dawned on her.

She was kissing Tim Drake, and it wasn't everything she'd ever read about, but she wasn't sure she wanted it to be. Her stomach tingled, her lips sent tiny ripples of pleasure through her body, and the hand that had moved to tangle into her hair cradled her skull and gave her all the support she'd ever need. It was perfect.

When he broke away, Rowan didn’t so much as blink. His expression was tender, and the smile he gave her made her heart struggle through its rhythm. Only _then_ was her mind wonderfully blank as the feeling of Tim’s lips on hers refused to leave; instead seeming to linger like a phantom.

“I hope it wasn’t too bad for a first kiss.”

She really needed to work on her social skills, if not to better interact with people, then to give Tim an answer better than a jerky nod the next time he asked her a question like that.

Then again, the long fingers gently massaging her scalp did nothing to help the fluttering entity within her that had stolen her voice. The pleasure the simple action brought her was almost comparable to their kiss, and her eyes slipped closed as she fell into a sort of bliss she’d never known was possible.

Completely and utterly relaxed, she leaned forward and slipped her hands around Tim’s waist. He was a right mess to deal with, but she never wanted to let him go.

"Rowan?"

She squeezed him tighter so that he wouldn't notice the blush on her cheeks at the sound of her name from his mouth.

_'The mouth that I just kissed. Fuck.'_

"You know when Damian and I talked about this, we spent almost an hour speculating on what could go wrong?"

Her limbs tensed in the next heartbeat and she shot up so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. The hand still in her hair held her in place, and she had half a mind to bite his wrist as he stared back at her with that soft little smile and his soul sucking eyes.

_"They planned this? The freaking sneaky nerds actually came up with a battle plan for **this**. The weird ass motherfu-'_

He kissed her again.

Her mind certainly didn't clear of all thoughts, but she wasn't really angry anymore.

_'Mmm. I'm making a pineapple upside down cake when I get home. Or maybe a coconut cream pie.'_

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

When Damian went with Tim to take Rowan home at 1 am, he most certainly noticed the way she refused to look at either of them, and had a silent freak out every time she made eye contact with Tim.

She froze up, stopped breathing, screwed her face up, and turned an almost startling shade of red.

It was amusing, to say the least.

After Rowan was safely inside her home, he was sure Tim was expecting his question.

"So you kissed her?"

Tim's responding smile was a little proud, and just a little bit embarrassed.

"Yeah. It went better than I thought it would."

Damian crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.

"I told you it would."

"I still think it was a good idea for us to wait until she was fifteen."

Damian watched as Tim ran a hand through his previously gelled hair, and decided not to comment when he saw the reddened tips of the older boy’s ears. Rowan wouldn't be 15 for two days, but pointing that out would just ruin what little he'd managed to get from Tim. The older boy was adamant about not touching her, and while he had a point, his restraint was ridiculous. A peck on the lips wouldn't kill anybody.

"Tt. Were you at least able to tell what she tasted like?"

Damian knew he would get his chance, but no one ever said he was patient.

He knew it was going to be a long, agonizing wait when Tim licked his lips and gripped the steering wheel tight.

"Sweet. I'd have wondered if I was kissing the right person had she tasted like anything else."

Damian closed his eyes like Tim probably wished he could.

_'Of course.'_

Just below the surface of his more lecherous thoughts, however, something lingered. She hadn’t behaved as he wanted her too at all, and he was wondering what exactly she thought was going on. He was starting to think that he and Tim were looking at their relationship from a whole different direction as Rowan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the link to the Chase family matching outfits is on my Fanfiction . net profile, lol.  
> The next chapter will be up in a few minutes so don’t worry :P


	36. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, it’s getting harder and harder to keep my details in order because of how long this is getting.

 

Rowan’s fifteenth birthday didn’t start off as a large affair.

 

Her Mama had woke her up to breakfast in bed, and they’d spent the morning watching Mulan and Mulan II because the savior of China was a boss ass bitch and the OG right after Gran in the Chase household.

 

After that, her Gran took her and Lucy out to get manicures and pedicures, which was a rare treat since generally cooking and nice nails didn’t go together. Rowan had gotten an interesting black and silver combo while Lucy had settled for a bubblegum pink with acid green tips. Her Gran had decided on just a pedicure, and had chosen a color that matched her favorite lipstick, which Rowan secretly called classic siren red.

 

Lunch had involved the biggest salad Rowan had ever seen. (She ate the whole thing by herself even though the menu had boasted it as ‘Family Size’. At that moment, Rowan had apparently become a family of one.)

 

Then she got home and things _really_ picked up. Her Mama, Tatianna, Tim, Damian, _plus_ Stephanie and Cassandra had been waiting for her. Their presence made her happy because she hadn’t actually been sure if she was a bother to the girls or if they genuinely liked her. (She still felt like Cassandra was after her cooking skills, but if she was in the same position, she would be too.)

 

Her sisters were out of town, so Elizabeth and Catherine had set up Skype, which was actually a really nice surprise. Liz had promised to come back to Gotham soon and take her club hopping (Something her Mama was intrigued by and her Gran disapproved of.), and Catherine had promised to come visit once her college semester was over.

 

Though they were twins, at 20 years old they had chosen very different paths in their lives and it showed. Elizabeth was doing a pretty good job making a name for herself as a DJ while Catherine had decided to go to business school on Hawaii.

 

After the socializing aspect was done, Rowan got to open her gifts.

 

Lucy got her a t-shirt with a smiling cupcake on it that she adored because _cupcakes._

Tatianna got her a new baseball bat that she’d been drooling over, but had no reason to get. She wasn’t about to give it back, however, because _damn was it so shiny and new and pretty she couldn’t wait to cover it in sharpie._

 

Cassandra had gotten her a leather bracelet that had a smooth black stone at its center, while Stephanie had given her a matching choker. Both had made her want to give the girls hugs, but she refrained. She had a soft spot for jewelry like that, and the pieces were going to get some intense wear.

 

The biggest present came in the form of a brand new vanity dresser that had apparently been put together while her nails had been done, and she actually _did_ hug both her Gran and Mama when she saw it. The edges were carved with delicate leaves and it was almost scary how well it matched her hand print tree.

 

Despite how much she loved her dresser, however, the gift that turned out to have the most meaning came in the form of a single note from Damian and Tim.

 

While she had fawned over her new vanity, they’d apparently left to ‘prepare’ her gift and would pick her up at 6. As always, they’d already discussed it with her Mama. That by itself made her curious, but she left it be. Frankly, she’d been surprised they’d even come. She figured Tim would have made his way back to San Francisco already. Having both he and Damian there as well as Cassandra and Stephanie, however, had been great. Hell, if she’d gotten nothing else but to have all of her friends and family there than she would have been happy.

 

Though the bonds were new, Rowan had the feeling that maybe the girls enjoyed her company and she was on the track to making new friends. With that in mind, she managed to give them both hugs before they left.

 

Stephanie’s hug had been warm and tight enough to knock the breath out of her, while Cassandra’s had been more apprehensive and Rowan would have been embarrassed had she not hugged her back at the last second.

 

By the time everyone was full of the lovely cake her Gran had made and were well and truly gone; Rowan had given her Mama and Gran thank you hugs and hopped in the shower. The day had been busy, and her back was killing her so the heat of the water was nice.

 

After a quick shower, Rowan walked into her room and couldn't help but pause as she passed her new vanity.

 

A girl whose wet hair was already starting to frizz stared back at her, but the wild locks weren't what held her gaze. No, it was the line of skin beneath the girl's poorly secured poorly towel that had Rowan's hand coming up to lightly brush against the words there.

 

In the past year, she'd done as much as she could not to read into her Soul Marks too much. Soul Mate didn't always mean forever, nor did it always mean true love.

 

Sometimes Soul Mate meant finding a part of you that you never knew you wanted.

 

Sometimes Soul Mate meant finding the best friend you never wanted to let go.

 

Sometimes Soul Mate meant finding the person or people that were always meant to tear you apart.

 

Though it was selfish, Rowan sometimes wished the Soul Marks told a person more than just those first vital words. She figured that it would be nice to know what the words 'Well don't just stand there like an imbecile, sit down already' said about the relationship she shared with Damian when they were practically etched into her skin. The letters appeared as a brand on her lower stomach; a literal scar on every way except for texture.

 

She hadn't spent many nights pondering the meaning, as she hadn't wanted to devote the emotional effort to it, but to her they echoed Damian's abrasive tendencies to a T while simultaneously betraying something possessive. Damian meant well, but to her there had always been something about him that was just a little twisted.

 

Tim, on the other hand, was a mystery. Every action he made had a plethora of possible reasons, each one seeming to come together until they overflowed and were lost like water at her fingertips.

 

The words 'I swear we didn't raise him to be this vicious' hid themselves among a jumble of letters beneath her breasts, the phrase only visible due to the slightly thickened lines of each letter. Tim had stamped her with a word search, and the possibilities of what that said about him were endless.

 

It was almost humorous how different her marks were while still being undoubtedly related to each other. Tim had been referring to Damian, and she should have known then that they'd all be stuck together.

 

Complicatedly simple seemed to describe her Soul Marks, and she wondered what they would mean to the boys they belonged to before shaking off the thought.

 

She was about as ready to show them her marks as she was to see their own, which was not at all. She'd only seen Damian's, and just the thought of him knowing how similar his mark on her was to her mark on him had her digging her nails into her palm.

 

One day they'd probably show each other he marks in whole, and Rowan knew they'd each have a different meaning for every mark. No one viewed the world in the same way, and when they interpreted why their words had manifested the way they did, there would be no right answer.

 

Until then, Rowan would continue to ignore the glances they sometimes gave her when they were looking for her marks and they thought she wasn't looking. Until she could handle the thought that maybe liking her best friends maybe as more than best friends was okay, she'd forget the words that stained her skin.

 

But because she was young, and inexperienced, and scared of too much, ugly thoughts gnawed at her and she clenched her eyes shut as she quickly pulled on a t-shirt.

_'They wouldn't force themselves to like me,_ “she tried to reassure herself, " _Damian doesn't let anyone or anything dictate his behavior and Tim is way too smart to fall for all that destined to be shit without some support to fall back on. They wouldn't do all this if they didn't want it."_

 

For a moment, her pep talk worked.

 

Then her mind got the better of her, and she forced herself to drive all thoughts of Soul Marks and fate far away.

_'But maybe they don't know what they want and the words on my skin are the easiest way out.'_

 

Her twisting thoughts were starting to fall into each other, and she was afraid that if she wasn't careful she'd sink into them before she ever had a chance to sort them all out.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

When they picked her up, Rowan slipped into the back of the car with a smile and listened carefully as they explained where they were taking her. Damian was driving, and so Tim spoke the most.

“We’re going to an outdoor movie. It’s like a drive in, but everyone spreads out on blankets on this big grassy area instead of parking in cars.”

Excitement immediately took root, and she grinned hard and leaned forward. She’d taken a seat in the center of the back just so she’d be able to lean forward and see them both equally.

“It’s similar enough to our usual habits to be comfortable, but different enough to be suitable for your birthday, no?” Damian interjected.

Rowan let the smile on her face answer for her.

After that, Rowan settled back into her seat and watched Gotham’s dark atmosphere creep slowly by. The calm was nice, and she missed just getting out with them like that. Everything had just been so weird lately.

She should have realized that nothing went according to plan, though.

"Do you even want to be romantically involved with us?" Damian asked abruptly.

 

Rowan felt as if her breathe had been stolen from her, and she thought that a few of her heart beats might have gone with it.

 

Tim looked almost as shocked as she felt, but there was a certain apprehensive shadow to his gaze that said he was as scared for her answer as much as he wanted it.

 

"I- what?"

 

She wasn't quite sure how to answer, and she licked at suddenly dry lips.

 

Cool as ever, Damian met her head on.

 

“I know you heard me so please spare us the unnecessary extra and answer my question.”

 

Damian said a lot of things to her, but _that_ stung. It might have felt that way because it was something she spent her time actively avoiding.

 

Sapphire and emerald eyes burned through her defenses, and she didn’t think it was faire how pretty they could be when she was sitting there trying not to bite her tongue.

 

In a split decision, Rowan decided to lay all of her cards on the table and simply voice her thoughts as they came. If she was lucky, they'd find the answers they wanted in her words without her having to sort through her messy mind.

 

“It’s not so simple,” she told them.

 

Damian’s eyes narrowed and Tim turned fully around to face her, but the conversation was far from over so she continued.

 

“With you guys nothing’s ever _simple_. I just- I don’t know what’s supposed to happen-“

 

She shook her head and slid her hands up into her hair, looking down as her forearms framed her head.

 

“-and I don’t want things to change I don’t want it to be weird because I don’t want-“

 

_‘-you guys to leave I don’t want to lose you two because I did something I shouldn’t have I don’t want to mess up I don’t want you two to leave me because without you I feel alone I don’t want-‘_

“-to mess this up. I just… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

 

She didn’t like to think about the things she feared, as many of them as they were. Being forced to deal with the inevitable, however, made them all come swirling in at once and her deepest instincts kept her from revealing them.

 

Voicing one’s fears made them real, and she wasn’t ready for that.

 

She knew her answer wasn’t good enough for them, though, and she was ready for Tim’s next question.

 

“But what do _you_ want?”

 

For once he wasn’t touching her, and she missed the small comfort despite being thankful for the space.

 

What _did_ she want?

 

With them, everything just happened. She didn’t have the strength or desire to control Tim and Damian, and so she’d simply let her time with them play out as it would. She reacted accordingly and tried not to let things get out of hand, but the fact of the matter was that she was not made to fight and so when it came right down to it, they had control.

 

Over thinking for her had always led to more anxiousness, and she’d learned to leave their petty arguments and aggressive fights be, watching them tone down over time.

 

Paying attention to every little expectation the world had set in place for her was tiring, so she did what felt right without much thought. Strolling through dark alleys way past midnight with a dressed down boy wonder made her grin because Damian new about the _weirdest_ places. Eating cake with Red Robin in his down time while he brushed up on his hacking skills was relaxing so she didn’t care who’s system he was sneaking into.

 

Those were the things that brought her happiness, the little things she feared would be gone if she let the words on her skin control her. Those were the things she never wanted to let go of.

 

But what did she _want?_

“I don’t want to lose you guys.”

 

Her voice cracked and she was almost mad at herself because what? Was she producing testosterone now instead of estrogen?

 

“You won’t,” Tim replied quickly,” we’re not going anywhere Ro.”

 

Damian nodded and she pulled her knees to her chest as her stomach lurched because that was what he _said_ but-“

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

Damian reeled back as if she’d slapped him but she couldn’t find it in her to be ashamed.

 

“You think so little of us? Of the marks on your skin?”

 

Her stomach was beginning to turn faster and faster and she hugged her knees tighter.

 

“The marks don’t mean half as much as people say they do and you should _know_ that.”

 

It was a low dig because Damian had never said anything, but she knew in her heart that his mother’s marks did not match his father’s. Damian loved perfection and the relationship between his parents was anything but so she knew it hurt him.

 

She knew because she was officially fifteen years old and she still felt the sharp jab that came with one more day of her own Father being married to a woman that was not her Mama. It was sad, and bitter, and just a little bit petty but she would not disown the pain that her Mama sheltered every day.

 

Because life wasn’t faire and Soul Marks were bullshit and how _dare_ they come between her and the two people she couldn’t imagine her life without.

 

“Rowan that’s not true,” Tim argued eyes bright with emotion.

 

He looked understanding and permissive and she hated the fact that she couldn’t hate _him_ because she didn’t want or need his pity.

 

To her surprise, It was Damian that answered Tim.

 

“It is,” Damian said solemnly, face startlingly blank,” the validity of the Soul Marks may not be important based on what other people say, but we’re not talking about _other_ people. We’re talking about you, me, and Tim and so no one else’s opinion is applicable. No one gets a say in this relationship but _us_ and _I_ say that the words _you_ put on my skin are there because you care about me. Am I wrong?”

 

His words were a challenge and she jerked at the connotation.

 

“Wha- I- you know I do!”

 

Her head had snapped up so quickly that she’d developed a crick in her kneck, and she ducked her gaze back down as she fought the burning in her nasal cavity.

 

_‘Stupid allergies.’_

“I- I care about Tim too… You know I do…”

 

 _‘I probably shouldn’t_.’

 

“If you care, then give us a chance.”

 

She would have known it was Tim by the pleading in his voice alone even if she hadn’t recognized the sound.

 

“I have been-“

 

Damian said something loudly in what she guessed was Arabic, and she knew by that alone that he was starting to get seriously pissed. From what she’d gathered, Arabic was one of many languages he’d been taught as a child, but it was also one of the first and one of his favorites.

 

“Rowan, enough! You’ve been treating us like friends and I don’t want to be your _friend_!”

 

A cold shot of fear ran through her even though she knew he didn’t mean it in _that_ context.

 

_‘Or maybe he did?’_

Doubt was a fickle mistress.

 

“Damian, you’re being too harsh, calm down!”  Tim snapped.

 

He was running thin on patience as well; she could tell.

 

She winced when Damian rounded on him.

 

“No one asked for your opinion, Drake.”

 

“Oh that’s rich, coming from you! You _just_ emphasized the importance of us all having an opinion on this relationship!”

 

Damian made an oddly aggressive version of his ticking sound.

 

“At the rate you’re going, there wont be a relationship! You even kissed her and she is acting like it never even happened. Did you really do it, or are you just so bad that she’s forced herself not to recall the event?”

 

Rowan’s cheeks blazed immediately and her eyes felt unusually wet.

 

This was exactly why she hadn’t wanted to discuss their stupid Soul Marks. It was why she ignored the constant media propaganda and regulations on Soul Mates her entire life.

 

“You would know, wouldn’t you? You’re the one who can’t keep his hands off of me.”

 

_‘This is ridiculous!’_

 Damian snarled, but instead of punching Tim in the face he turned on her and she blanched. The car was _way_ too small for the emotionally overflow at the moment and she wanted to propel herself out of the damn window.

 

“Gods, Rowan! You can’t just make this easy?”

 

She pushed herself closer to the door, but Tim stretched his arm and covered the lock before she could even touch it.

 

She thought she heard him mutter ‘This is so messed up,’ under his breathe.

 

“Look Rowan, we’ve all got each other’s words, Damian obviously wants you, and I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t want to try this whole thing out. We have managed to maintain a functional platonic relationship for seven years. We work for some reason, and no one here is anything like your father. Now. Do. You . Want. Us.”

 

Blue and Green. Blue and Green. Blue and Green.

 

They dominated way too much of her time.

“Yes.”

 

She wanted them in ways she didn’t even feel like understanding and it was absurd.

 

Damian twisted back around and let his head fall back against the seat with an audable thump.

 

“Good. Now get out of the damn car so we can get a proper space and consume massive amounts of empty carbohydrates. Happy birthday.”

 

Damian then slipped out of the vehicle, slammed the door, and moved through a throng of people who parted eagerly for the tall, irritated young man.

 

As she watched him go, she could only be glad that the windows were tinted and the car was probably sound proof.

 

Then the stress of the night caught up to her and she burst out laughing.

 

(It was either that or cry, and she wasn’t about to be that person.)

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Rowan was still smiling softly when she turned to ask Damian if he'd pass the popcorn, only to come face to face with him. She would have backed up on her own, but there was something in his gaze that kept her there.

 

"Damian?" She asked quietly, all the while acutely aware of the fact that Tim had leaned in behind her, reaching his arm around her body to settle on her leg.

 

She was all but trapped between them, but she found she didn't really care. She enjoyed the closeness in general, but at the moment she felt there was something more. At the moment she felt...

 

Damian leaned in, and just when she thought he would kiss her, a sort of stillness seemed to settle in over them. His lips barely brushed against her’s once, twice, three times and yet her lungs were devoid of air as her heart struggled to beat through the gentle caress.

 

Tim's lips had been smooth against hers, but Damian's where slightly chapped and the abrasive texture somehow sent tingles throughout her body.

 

Suddenly, between one thought and the next, Damian's tongue shot out and swiped a burning trail across her lower lip. The cool air that pushed between them as he leaned back seemed to sting, and her eyes shot open only to be ensnared by stunning green.

 

He was still close enough for her to feel his uneven breathes against her lips, and the damp air did nothing to help the fog encroaching on her mind.

 

Damian's eyes darted down to her lips even as he licked his own, and she couldn't help the shiver that stole through her body. Just when the first tremor stopped, however, another started because Tim had tightened his grip on her thigh.    

 

"Can I..?" Damian asked, and any other time she would have teased him for his sudden shortness of words.

 

At the moment, however, her body was beginning to feel flushed and even though she didn't know what he was asking in its entirety, she gave her whispered consent.

 

"Yes."

 

His hand moved up to settle around her nape, fingers nearly encasing her entire neck as he pulled her in.

 

“أنا في انتظار لهذا ، الحبيب"

 

She barely had time to register the fact that he was no longer speaking English before her lips where sealed to his. His fingers tightened but somehow the pain felt… Almost nice.

 

This time, his lips were moving firmly against hers and she had to fight to remember to breathe through her nose.

 

She forgot, however, when he ran his tongue across the seam of her lips. She opened to him with no protest, and then the tart taste of cherries exploded across her taste buds has his tongue slid along hers.

 

Her fingers twitched to hold onto something, _anything_ to ground herself, but instead she found herself leaning forward when Damian made to pull back.

 

For a second, she thought she’d made a fool of herself with the small action, but then a hand slid around her waist to rest just under her breasts in support, and Damian was leaning into her once again.

 

Her heart was beating faster than a drum, and long fingers began to rub gentle circles at her sternum. She knew it was probably to calm her, but something about the way Damian was moving his tongue made her skin ultra-sensitive.

 

When strong teeth took hold of her delicate bottom lip, though, Rowan’s hand shot up to grasp at the fingers on her chest and _squeeze._ It was a bad move, however, because all it did was make the fingers spread.

 

It was Tim’s hand, she knew now that she could feel it, and he’d been close enough to her breasts before. When she’d grabbed him, though, his fingers had spread and on reflex he’d dug in and the combination of the delicious sting at her lips and Tim’s fingers digging into the bottom of a tender breast proved to be too much for her.

 

She pulled away from them both, elbows and knees going in all directions as she shoved herself to the side. When she was finally free enough to, she braced her foot on what felt like someone's chest and pushed until she had completely left their embrace.

 

Now situated awkwardly on her back, Rowan brought her hands up to her face and tried to control her shaking body.

 

"Rowan!" Tim said urgently.

 

She shook her head and curled her knees to her chest, moving into her side.

 

_'Oh my god I can't believe I did that. His tongue was in my mouth and it was weird but in a good way and his teeth hurt but it hurt good and what the hell why the fuck what-"_

"Rowan," Damian's voice cut through her thoughts," I'm... Sorry."

 

He sounded hurt, and she wanted to scream because that was _not_ what she'd meant to do.

 

Tearing her hands away from her face, she shot up and nearly collided head first with Tim, who'd apparently been leaning over her.

 

"No! No, Damian. I just... I..."

 

"You what?" Tim asked gently, reaching out to brush a stray curl back. She folded her legs beneath her even as she shook her head, and covered her face with her hands again.

_'I can't believe...'_

 

She had no idea what to say, really. He'd had her tongue in her mouth, and she'd liked it, only it was Damian and so that was...

 

"Amazing..."

 

"What was that?" Damian asked.

 

At that moment, she found out what it was like to wish for lighting to strike you down.

 

"I-it was... I uh, I mean I didnt d-dislike it. I-I just, um. It was-"

 

Tim settled a hand on her back and she shrugged him off because she just _wasn't_ ready to have anyone's hands on her quite yet.

 

"Did you-," Tim began, obviously feeling some of her flustered state," I mean would you, you know, want to do it again?"

 

She was embarrassed to holy hell, she was sweating through her clothes, and she felt like she would never be able to look her boys in the eyes again.

 

".....yeah."

 

The word was barely more than a breath, but Damian, as always, caught it.

 

"So you _did_ enjoy it."

 

She could hear the smirk in his voice and she hoped his face got stuck like that.

 

Desperately searching for a way not to make it awkward, Rowan blurted out the first thing that popped into her head.

 

“What did you say?”

 

Damian was quiet even as Tim let out a short laugh behind her.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

She bent her head farther down, and hunched her shoulders in.

 

“Before we… Kissed… what did you say?”

 

For a second, she thought he wouldn’t answer, but then his hand finally moved away from her neck, only to cup her chin and bring her face up.

 

“Only that I’d been waiting a while to do that, beloved.”

 

She stared up at the sky as her best friends- boyfriends- _Soul Mates_ shifted behind her to the audio of a movie she no longer cared about.

 

_‘Well. Definitely not the worst birthday ever.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So theres a line of text that I actually used google translate to put in arabic, and I have no idea how the site will format it.  
> Also I’m dying and I feel like there are a ton of errors please tell me if it gets too bad. I’m definitely going to edit the entire fic in the summer, but I don’t think I can look at this for like at least a week I’ve been pouring over these chapters for like a month. You have no idea how badly I just wanted them to make out for like six chapters straight smh.  
> Okay so BlueRose160 on FF . net brought the whole ‘beloved’ thing to my attention and I was like??? Yes??? Perfection?? I am trash for this type of thing?? So this chapter is dedicated to them.  
> But yeah they’re great you all are great I love you guys <3  
> Tell me what you think?
> 
> (Also Love Don’t Die by the Fray won for Damian, Sum of Our Parts by Miranda Lambert won for Rowan, and Iris by the GooGoo Dolls won for Tim)


	37. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk. This is something I’ve had written since way before I ever reached any real plot in the story. I found it in my files and I figured I should give you guys something. I think I burnt myself out on those last two chapters, so I don’t think I’ll be updating again until late December early January. Part of that is because I promised my friend I’d do a oneshot for her Melanie Martinez song collection on Wattpad. I haven’t even started and it’s due in December  
> Anyway, enjoy this little snippet lol.  
> Warnings: Underage Male on Male sexual interaction. Gotta love those bois.

_‘Really?’_

It was 12:01 on a Friday afternoon. She was nearing the end of her 2nd period, and her lunch break was a mere 14 minutes away. She was absolutely 1000.99% sure that Damian _knew_ this. Yet here she was, 14 minutes away from a nice, 1 hour long lunch break, and her phone _would. Not. Stop. Ringing._   Her teacher had already threatened to take it away once, and now the irate woman was glaring daggers at her as the device continued to buzz incessantly in her pocket. The only thing that stopped her from saying anything was the fact that Rowan had continued to work, and hadn’t once pulled out her phone to check it. All in all it wasn’t the best situation, and there was only one thing she could think.

**_‘Really?’_ **

When the bell finally rung, signaling the end of the period, Rowan raced out of the class room. She zipped down the hall and quickly found an empty room to duck into before whipping out her phone. She looked at the screen and groaned.

_2 missed calls_

_15 new messages_

She had a pretty good guess as to who they were from. Seeking to validate her suspicions, she slid the little bar at the bottom of her screen to unlock her phone. She scrolled through the messages, and surprise, surprise, _they were all from Damian._ Narrowing her eyes, she moved on to the phone calls. Only one was from Damian. The other was from Tim.

Making a split decision, she decided to call Tim after she talked to Damian. Damian was the one who was in such a rush to get in contact with her after all. Before she could go back and read any of his messages, however, her screen lit up, and she was faced emerald green. She’d changed Damian’s contact picture to a close up shot of his eyes last week. She stood still for a second, simply studying the image on her screen, and then she answered.

“Yo.”

“Took you long enough to answer.”

Rowan felt her face morph into an expression of disbelief before she spoke.

“Damian, some of us _actually_ attend our classes.”

Damian may have technically attended Gotham Academy, but he rarely actually went to class. He came for the tests, and turned in the work and that was pretty much all anyone could expect out of him. He was just _that_ stubborn. She suspected that if he was younger and more impressionable, things could have worked out better.

“Tt. Public education is defective. You’d have a far better chance with _me_ as your learning instructor.”

Rowan briefly imagined Damian at the front of her class, giving a lecture on math. He probably wouldn’t expect anything less than absolute perfection, and she could only imagine what he would do to the slackers in her class. Without her permission, a laugh came bubbling up her throat.

“What’s so funny?”

His voice was gruff and by now she could tell when he was gearing up for a one sided fight. Deciding to stop that horse dead in its tracks, she quickly defused the situation.

“Nothing, nothing. What’s up?”

“Tt. I wanted to know if you wanted to come over tonight and watch movies with Tim and me.”

She wanted to go; however, there was one small problem.

“Um. Well. I uh, I wouldn’t mind. But you know my Mama might have an issue with that…”

“Why? She never has before.”

Okay, so that wasn’t exactly true and Rowan didn’t know what to say to that. Well she did, but it would be awkward.

“Um. We weren’t, I mean you and I before, we, um. And then Tim will be there, and, uh.”

Wow she was so eloquent. It was a wonder they had even let her pass English.

“Are you trying to say that she has a problem with you spending the night now that we’re dating?”

“……Yes…..”

Damian sighed and she just _knew_ , deep in her gut that he was rolling his eyes right now.

“Just tell her that if I’d wanted to have sex with you, I wouldn’t need to invite you to my house to do so.”

It took Rowan all she had to stop spluttering and choke out something recognizable.

“ _What_?”

“Really, I could climb through your window at any time and fuck you up against the wall and your Mother most likely wouldn’t be the wiser.”

He sounded contemplative now, and Rowan knew things were about to get worse.

“And if it’s a threesome she’s worried about then you could just tell her that Tim is adamant not to have sex with you until you’re older.”

He was saying all of this in a bland voice that betrayed almost no emotion and holy shit Rowan had forgotten how blunt he could be.

“Damian.”

“Of course that doesn’t mean I’m any less willing to-“

“ _Oh my god, Damian, **stop**._ ”

Rowan’s cheeks were hot enough to fry an egg on by now and she was pretty sure she was close to passing out. She was _not_ going to let Damian keep talking. And she was definitely _not_ going think about all the images his words had just brought up.

“I’ll talk to her, okay?” Rowan finally said.

“Tim will be by to pick you up from school and take you by your house for clothes. I know you don’t like to be in your uniform.”

Before Rowan could even sort through that information dump, Damian was gone. She stood numbly, staring at her phone for a good five minutes.

 _‘What am I even doing?’_ she finally thought as she dialed her Mama.

After a few rings, Miranda picked up.

“Whatchya need baby girl?”

“Damian and Tim want to know if I can sleep over tonight.”

“ _Do they now?_ ”

Her tone indicted that she was thinking along the lines of ‘that’s a funny joke.’

Rowan simply sighed. The woman may not have been aware of her daughter’s current relationship status, but her Mama was still treating them as if she was.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

By the time the last bell of the day rung, Rowan was tired, irritated, and very hungry. Over all it was not a good combination of feelings for her. The only thing she had to pacify her was the fact that she’d already finished what little homework she’d gotten, and all of her projects were caught up.

She knew from experience that with Damian involved, there was zero chance that she’d ever get anything productive done. Sighing, she made her way to the front of her school and out the doors into sweet, sweet freedom. Or, you know, she could be walking into incarceration. One never knew with Damian.

Blowing a stray piece of hair out of her face, she continued on. That is, she shuffled along until she was distracted by the random groups of girls giggling by the front gate. Raising one eyebrow, she soldiered through the crowd, her soft ‘excuse me’ going nearly unheard.

Now normally there were groups of girls everywhere anyway, it was, after all, a high school. But Rowan had never quite seen them so focused on one thing. Unless it was a fight, but Rowan didn’t hear the tell-tale sounds of curses being thrown along with punches.

Even nearing the front of the crowd, she still couldn’t tell what had them all so entranced. There where, of course, cars lined up to pick up their children. Nothing new or interesting there. There were a few teens getting bikes, or taking off on skateboards. There were also a few students simply milling about in front of the gates. They didn’t look particularly interesting, what with everyone in the same white button up and plaid bottoms, except for....

 _‘Oh,’_ she thought.

Leaning right up against the wall, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world, was Tim Drake. He had on a short sleeved button up and fitted jeans that she just knew most likely showcased his extremely tight ass. And then a girl on the side opposite of her came up to him and he turned and-

‘ _Yup.Those are some really nice jeans.’_

Well, at least now she knew why there was a mob of girls in front of the school. She supposed having hot older dudes show up at your school was cause for commotion.

Groaning, she made her way towards him. As she got closer, she began to pick up bits of the conversation with the unknown girl.

“So like, you’re here waiting for someone?”

“Yeah,” he replied, turning to scan the crowd around him. When his eyes caught sight of her, he smiled, and she was amused to catch sight of relief on his face.

“If you’ll excuse me.” And with that, he pushed away from the wall and he was by her side.

The girl looked positively shocked at being so thoroughly blown off, and Rowan had to fight the urge to giggle. Tim bumped her shoulder, and she looked up at him.

“It’s not funny; she was the _eighth_ one in the last ten minutes.”

Tim looked so disturbed, and Rowan just couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing.

“It’s not funny!”

All Rowan could do was give him a rather pointed look.

“Shouldn’t you be jealous or something? I mean, I _am_ your boyfriend.”

And with that, her laughter stopped. She straightened, and cleared her throat. The chattering around them had increased after Tim had said that. It was going to be hell trying to deal with this on Monday.

She wasn’t particularly used to thinking of Tim that way. Or Damian if she was completely honest.The entire idea that they were even interested in her like that was _still_ hard for her to believe.

Even if she did have the words both on her skin and straight from their mouths to reassure her.

“Well, anyway… We should probably leave now.”

Tim nodded and smiled at her with understanding.

She adjusted her messenger bag and trailed after him as he made his way towards his car. For the most part they were pretty silent as they adjusted and pulled onto the road.

Eventually though, Tim decided to speak up.

“So how’d you convince your Mom to let you spend the night?”

Rowan winced.

“Um, well my sisters are probably going to be coming into town tomorrow, so I definitely have to be home in time if I’m going to be able to keep up with them. And I promised my Mama I wouldn’t do anything, uh,” wow, she didn’t have the right words for this.

“You promised her you wouldn’t do what?”

Rowan turned her face towards the window so that Tim wouldn’t be able to see the blush heating her cheeks.

“Never mind, it’s not important.” Her voice was high, and she desperately hoped Tim wouldn’t question her further.

After a second, he responded.

“Well, okay I guess. So Damian said he was going to order pizza, is that okay?”

Rowan immediately perked up. In the time it’d taken her to get her Mama to agree, she’d managed to waste all of her lunch break.

“ _Fuck yes_ ,” she said, mouth already watering.

“Well someone’s excited,” he laughed. She could see the mirth in his blue eyes, and she grinned at him.

“I’m just hungry. And I like pizza. Also he’s probably going to get ice cream. And cookies.” She was practically bouncing now, but she couldn’t stop herself. She always got excited when food was mentioned. It was probably her biggest flaw.

Tim was laughing and looking at her out of the corner of his eye now. She blushed and tried to calm herself down.

“I, uh, I really like food.”

“I know.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The movies aren’t what end up making the night into something _interesting._ No, that part comes later.

When they get ready to settle down for the night, Damian was well aware that Rowan was watching; waiting. He’d once had a conversation with Tim about how Rowan could be more possessive then he was, and he wasn’t lying when he’d told Tim that he’d learned never to mess with Rowan’s food, and with good reason. What he _didn’t_ tell Tim was the way he’d learned. He still remembered it to this day, albeit only the most important details and he was more than sure that Rowan did as well.

He remembered stealing the last bit of ice cream from the bottom of the tub they’d been sharing at the time. He remembered her muttering things about being deprived of the ‘chocolaty goodness’. He remembered the look on her face when he’d done so. The sound she’d made.

Her eyes had gone wide and she’d spluttered and swatted his arm and whimpered just a little, and _fuck_ it’d done things to him. He remembered brushing off the feeling as spontaneous hormones because she was still _only_ 12\. He remembered pulling out his phone and texting a faceless girl that, and he admitted this now, nearly 3 years later, he really only used for sexual and strategically sound favors. He remembered leaving, and thinking nothing of Rowan’s words of ‘I am _so_ gonna get you for that.’

He remembered ignoring her as she followed him all the way the girl’s house, not even bothering to try and hide her presence.

He also remembered being locked in a heavy kiss with said faceless girl not 30 minutes later, and being tugged by the hair up and right out of her room. And he _absolutely_ remembered being dragged out into the street by a tiny girl with frizzy hair and glasses who then turned around and told him ‘Now you’ve been deprived too.’ And then following as she walked away. (Because even if he was pissed at her, he still wasn’t going to let her walk through Gotham alone.) Yes, he remembered that. And from the look on her face when Tim had eaten that pizza, she remembered too.

So when Tim asked what the hell he thought he was doing when he followed him to his room _with Rowan watching_ , Damian only had one reply.

“Why, I’m going to give her a show of course.” And then he pushed Tim into his room and shut the door.

“Now get on your knees, Drake.”

“Damian, I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing-“

Damian cut him off by fisting his hand in his hair and pulling him in for a kiss. Neither of them were gentle; Damian biting Tim’s lips as Tim shoved Damian up against the wall, but the kiss did its job. When Damian slipped his hand between them and past taught abs and waistbands, he found Tim’s throbbing cock heavy in his hands and he smiled.

Tim had always had strong morals, but Damian’s were loose enough for the both of them. Besides, the older boy would never admit it but Damian knew their arguments got him hot.

Tim groaned into Damian’s mouth and Damian used his grip on Tim’s hair to yank his head back so his throat was bared and he got just close enough so that hot breath met fevered skin.

“Now.Get. On.Your.Knees.”

This time, there was no protest from Tim.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Rowan wasn’t all that surprised when Damian went with Tim to his room. Instead, she simply said nothing and waited for one of them to come back and take her home. She figured that at the very least, she would end up seeing Cass or Alfred before she left. Barbara, Dick, and Stephanie were often in other towns saving the populace, while Jason was usually off in Gotham doing… Whatever it was that he did that everyone knew Bruce probably wouldn’t approve of. Honestly, it was probably something Damian did too.

She managed to sit there for all of ten minutes before the fact that Tim had _taken the last slice of her pizza_ found its way into her mind again, and brought a rather chancy plan for pay back with it.

Awkward as it may seem, from the moment he hit puberty Rowan knew he was going to be kind of… Frisky. Damian had always been very opinionated and extremely bold. Things like social and cultural expectations were never going to stop him from doing what, or _who_ ever the hell he wanted.

It was for that very reason that Rowan knew her plan was going to work. After all, it worked just fine before. All she’d had to do was walk to Damian’s girlfriend’s house and walk straight up the stairs, and with an indifference ingrained in her from multiple hours of explicit literature, she’d ignored the fact that he was sucking face (which was actually really gross, ew.), and pulled him up. Once he’d realized it was her, he’d practically gone into shock. It had been hilarious, and she’d been able to pull him out of the (suspiciously) empty house without incident (his girlfriend’s angry yelling didn’t count.)

Damian had never touched her food without asking ever again, nor had he ever again taken the last bite.

All in all, it was an excellent plan that she knew would work.

At least if she could work up the courage to actually do it. See, it was different this time. Damian wasn’t with some random girl that she knew he didn’t actually care for. And he _probably_ wasn’t just there for a ‘quick fix’. There would probably be kissing, and licking, and biting, and sucking, and- _oh_ she _really_ shouldn’t have been thinking about that.

Biting her lip, Rowan swallowed and just decided to get it over with. She cracked open the door, and looked into the hall. Empty.

She smiled and tiptoed out. She’d changed into her pajama bottoms and a t-shirt earlier, and when she moved she made almost no sound. There was something to be said about being lazy as hell.

Once she reached Tim’s door, she took a deep breath and put her hand on the knob.

_‘Do it for the future pizza slices.’_

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

‘ _This is so wrong,’_ he thought as the rough material of the carpet below him began to chafe his knees.

‘ _What the hell am I doing?’_ he asked himself as Damian’s length slid between his lips, leaving them shiny with a mixture of saliva and precum.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Tim said, even as he reached up to grasp Damian’s erection and ran his thumb over the weeping tip.

“When are you going to learn to shut up?” Damian replied, gripping Tim’s face roughly only to shove him to the ground. Tim didn’t have time to protest before his legs were being spread and Damian was looming over him, dirty smirk plastered on his handsome face. (He knew the game too well not to play along. He really needed to learn how to be less turned on by this.) Damian somehow managed to get Tim’s pants _and_ boxers off in a matter of seconds, and suddenly hands were meeting bare skin.

“The same time you learn to stop being such an asshole,” Tim ground out. Damian’s hands were gripping his inner thighs, and the slow kneading motion he was doing was driving Tim absolutely crazy.

Tim sat up, putting his weight on his elbows so that he could face Damian. He learned that it was always better to be on equal ground with the younger man.

“What’s your game?” he asked, because with Damian, there always seemed to be something. Sure he knew that they were playing, and sure he knew the rules, but he would have appreciated knowing what they were playing _for._

“There is no game,” Damian said, still sporting that utterly annoying smirk of his.

And it is from that smirk that Tim concluded that Damian was absolutely up to something.

“Damian I swear if you’re recording us again, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Because as odd as it sounded, that was something Damian had done before. And the scary thing was that Tim never would have known if not for the fact that Damian had shown him with a smile on his face and a warning never to piss him off. Tim, of course, had deleted the recording and every other copy of it. He wouldn’t put it past Damian to try again, however.

Instead of answering, Damian leaned down and blew on the tip of Tim’s length. The sensation sent a ripple of pleasure through Tim’s entire body, and nearly had him whimpering.

Damian laughed.

“Are you so desperate to cum that a little air on your cock has you shaking like a whore?”

God it was so wrong that he had such a dirty mouth.

“Shut up, Damian.”

Tim trembled as Damian slid his hands down, and stopped just short of where Tim wanted them most. He settled there for a moment, and let his gaze rest on Tim’s face. They stared at each other, and just when Tim was readying himself to tell Damian to _move_ , he leaned down and licked Tim like a lollipop from base to tip, stopping at the head to swirl his tongue.

“ _Fuck_!”

Tim’s hips bucked and he let himself thrust. The wet warmth of Damian’s mouth had Tim reeling, and then Damian was moving his tongue in _just the right way._ Tim couldn’t keep himself still and his back hit the floor hard, arms no longer willing to support his weight.

 Damian was always pulling tricks like that.

“Where do you even learn this stuff?” he groaned, eyes screwed shut.

Damian completely engulfed Tim’s shaft, letting out a moan that Tim felt through his entire body. He let his teeth slide along Tim’s length as he slowly sat back up, and Tim almost came right then.

“You know how Rowan’s always reading?” Damian asked, sitting back on his haunches. There was sweat on his brow, and he lifted his shirt to wipe it. Tim was momentarily distracted by tight abs and the dark trail of hair that led to Damian’s own arousal, standing proud and engorged against his flat stomach. 

“Um, yeah I guess.”

“Half of what she reads is thinly disguised porn. The other half is just porn.”

Tim had already been panting from Damian’s ministrations. The moment he said that, however, Tim was at a complete loss of breath.

“What?”

“She insists that they’re Romances and Fanfiction, but in all honesty we both know they’re porn. Over the years, I’ve developed a habit of reading over her shoulder. I’ve picked up a few things along the way.”

Tim was at a loss of words. He couldn’t imagine Rowan, his, _they’re_ Rowan would do that type of thing. She was so innocent. She was-

Okay he could see it but it was still so, so wrong.

“What? You didn’t think she was a perfect angel did you? She’s cruder than I am half of the time, you can’t tell me you’ve never noticed.”

“But she’s 15, Damian! And she’s so shy.”

Damian simply rolled his eyes and wrapped his hand around Tim’s shaft. He spoke as he twisted his hand and pumped simultaneously. Tim thought his agonizingly slow pace was going to be the death of him.

“She may be 15, but that doesn’t mean she’s an asexual nun. And being shy doesn’t mean much at all. In fact it’s a bit of a turn on. She blushes so prettily when she’s wet.”

Tim’s cock jerked, and he desperately tried to keep the image of a turned on Rowan out of his head. He tried to push Rowan completely out of his thoughts all together. God, it was so wrong.

“What the _hell_ Damian?”

“What? You’re the one who said you wouldn’t touch her. I, however, promised nothing of the sort.”

Tim sat up abruptly, but it was awkward because Damian still had a firm grip on Tim’s length.

“Damian I swear to god if you’re having sex with her-“

“Cool it Drake. Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t touched her.”

“What were you getting at then?”

“She stares sometimes and I can practically smell how turned on she gets. I don’t even think she notices. She’s so tentative, I bet every touch would be feather light.”

Damian was going even slower now, just barely letting his fingers graze Tim’s sensitive skin. Tim knew exactly what he was doing.

“Damian-“

“She’s got the softest little lips too,”

He leaned down to pepper kisses down Tim’s stomach that had him swallowing his words.

 “Jesus Damian you need to-“

“And she really does have freckles all over. You can tell when she wears her shorts and tank tops in the summer.”

Tim was trembling, and his cock was aching so badly he could nearly feel his heartbeat with every pulse.

“I bet her nipples are only slightly pinker than her freckles.”

Damian moved up so that he could nip at Tim’s nipples. At this point, Tim was back to squirming under Damian. The position wasn’t exactly unwelcome. Tim could almost picture Rowan this way. She was such a quiet little thing, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t vocal in her own way. He could almost imagine the sounds she would make if he nipped a trail from his mark to Damian’s.

“And you know what I think she does when you tease her like I’ve been teasing you?”

Tim couldn’t help himself, he was so close, too close. Damian was pumping faster now, and Tim was completely out of it.

“What?”

Damian leaned in close and whispered in his ear.

“Why don’t you find out.”

And then there was a small hand on his sweat slicked shoulder that most definitely not Damian, and Damian was off of him and he wanted to shout.

He opened his eyes and instead of meeting heated green, he was faced with deceptively calm brown.

“Next time don’t steal my pizza. Now come one, I wanna go home.”

And now Tim watched as Damian was dragged away by a girl half his size, and he was left alone on the ground, sweaty and aching.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When she got in bed later that night, Rowan ended up scaring her Mama and Gran due to the sheer amount of time she spent screaming into her pillow.

Her mind may have blocked out any sounds and allowed her to _not_ pass out when she’d interrupted Tim and Damian, but she’d still _seen_. Kissing them had been one thing that had taken her a solid month to get over, but seeing Damian going down on Tim was going to haunt her for quite some time.

Suffice to say, she didn’t really sleep at all.


	38. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO I’M BACK. I’ve gotten into roleplaying these past couple of days and I am.. Enamored omfg. Yall should have kept me away from it.  
> Also finals were a bitch and my Spanish professor can go get fucked up the ass. Seriously, I’m all for taking responsibility but that man can go suck it he hated my entire class, and especially me. Just the last month has been… Really, really bad for me. A lot of stuff went down and I had a bad time mentally, but I’m better now.  
> Anyway this chapters not a lot of plot development, but nice none the less?  
> As always, sorry for any typos. I wanted to get this out ASAP.

Getting up the next day was a struggle because in the midst of reliving the sight of Damian’s lips wrapped around Tim, Rowan had completely forgotten that she was supposed to be spending the day with her sisters. She hardly ever saw them in person, and so she really she shouldn’t have let it slip her mind so easily.

Her sisters, however, had not, and so she was interrupted in her sleepless misery by a sharply pointed nail and the snap of bubblegum.

“So are you actually going to get up?”

Even if she was horrified by her own thoughts and exhausted as hell, Rowan still smiled at Catherine’s voice.

“Hey Rinny.”

Catherine laughed, and Rowan could hear her seating herself in the chair by her vanity.

“Morning Macaroni.”

Both Elizabeth and Catherine had called her Macaroni for years because it was a play on her nickname ‘Ro’, and she’d once eaten an entire box of Kraft macaroni and cheese in front of them. The twins were the only ones that ever called her that, and she loved them for it.

Rowan yawned, and rolled over to hear her sister talk, immediately knowing that it was Elizabeth due to the pitch of her voice and her bubblegum habit.

“So Ro-” Pop! “-when-” Pop! “-where you planning-“ Pop! “- to tell us about your boy toy?”

Elizabeth threw in one last pop of her gum for good measure and Rowan twitched with the sound. Not spending enough time with them had the effect of her forgetting how freaking annoying Liz could be. The purple haired female was a mess of sound at pretty much all times, and if you weren’t used to it the living symphony that was Elizabeth could get to be too much. To be faire though, being a mess of sound sort of worked for a DJ since she was good at putting down a beat when it came to it.

_‘She’s so lucky that I love her.’_

"What’re you talking about, Liz?"

 

Liz grinned and whipped out her phone.

 

"I follow Baby D on Instagram."

 

“I follow him on Tumblr,” Catherine chimed in.

 

Immediately Rowan's eyes threatened to permanently roll back into her head. Sometimes her sisters were just too much. Right now was one of those times.

 

Unfortunately as a rather prominent public figure, Bruce Wayne ended up putting all of his children into some form of the limelight. Dick seemed to bask in it, but Damian and Tim slipped under the radar for the most part. Somewhere along the lines however, Damian had earned the nickname ‘Little D’ by the tabloids as the youngest Wayne son, and it was weird to hear her sister use the moniker.

 

"I can't believe he actually has one," she murmured. 

 

"I can't believe you don't," Liz shot back while Catherine laughed delicately beside her.

 

Rowan just huffed and ignored the devious look on her sister's face. She knew she was in for a good ribbing just from the airy sigh her sister let out in the next second. It was just too staged.

 

"I mean I know he’s yours and everything, but he’s just so yummy," Rowan's face immediately screwed up as a phone was shoved into her face, “I mean just look at those arms!"

 

And there it was, or rather he. Liz had pulled up her Instagram and low and behold there was Damian's latest post. It was a selfie of him lying in bed, t-shirt pulled tight over his biceps as a stretched arm rested above his head in a lazy pose with the caption 'Feeling bored.' He was doing absolutely nothing provocative whatsoever but he did look good in that shirt and his bright green eyes pinned her and had her throat going dry.

 

 _'Damn,'_ nearly echoed in her mind.

 

Liz caught onto Rowan's inner thoughts quickly and giggled.

 

"See, I told you! And to think, you've got him all to yourself."

 

Cheeks reddening, Rowan still managed to raise an eyebrow.

 

This time it was Catherine that caught it.

 

"Well maybe not all to yourself, but really I wouldn't mind sharing if Tim was the guy in question."

 

That was really something coming for Catherine considering she was asexual. Sure, she still found people attractive, but she usually found it easier just to not say anything since people got confused when she did.

 

Finally deciding to get up, Rowan pulled herself out of bed and all but rolled onto the floor. Squinting and disoriented from the sudden shift, she stumbled over towards Catherine and all but slapped her hands onto the older girl’s cheeks.

 

Catherine stared into her eyes and squinted back, and Rowan brought herself farther forward until they were nearly nose to nose, and then just as Catherine looked like she was going to break the stare and start laughing, Rowan opened her mouth and-

 

“Shhhhhhhhhhh.”

 

Catherine immediately jerked back in an attempt to get away from what Rowan was sure was her most atrocious morning breath to date. She figured it would help her sister learn to leave her alone.

 

“Oh my god, Rowan go brush your teeth!”

 

Behind her Elizabeth cackled openly at her twin’s disgust and Rowan joined her even as Catherine pushed her away and she landed on her butt.

 

Then Elizabeth had to go and put her two cents in and Rowan snapped her mouth shut.

 

“Maybe you should, I’m sure your boys would appreciate minty fresh breath!”

 

Rowan fell back and let her head hit her carpet with a groan.

 

_‘I am going to die. They are going to kill me and this is the end. Goodbye sweet world.’_

Pastel blue flats came into her peripherals and Rowan glanced up to see Elizabeth’s currently faded out purple hair.

 

“I can tell you’re being weird so stop.”

 

Rowan had learned that the thing with having siblings was that they tended to bring out certain habits that you didn’t even know you had. Maybe it was because they all shared their own family’s particular brand of fucked up and already had that innate trust, but there were often times that she found herself saying things to them that she wouldn’t dare say to anyone else. Now was one of those times.

 

“Oh my gosh Beth do you want to fricken’ fight?”

 

Elizabeth had always hated being called Beth, and so she immediately knocked Rowan in the face with her foot, and in turn Rowan latched her teeth onto the older girl’s ankle.

 

“Wow this is kinky, is that what you do in with your boys?”

 

Before she could help it, she’d slammed her eyelids shut as the feeling of Damian’s teeth on her lips invaded her mind and she couldn’t help but imagine Damian doing the same to Tim.

 

_‘NoNoNoNoThisIsWeirdLet’sNot!’_

“Rowan what are you doing?”

 

Her eyes opened and she realized that she was actually covering her face with her hands and letting out a shrill, almost scream like noise. She stared out between her fingers for a few seconds before deciding to just ignore the entire thing.

 

“….Can we please just leave?”

 

Elizabeth was back to popping her gum as Catherine shook her head.

 

“Do you even know where we’re going?” Catherine asked.

 

Rowan shook her head and propped herself up on her elbows to look at them expectantly. Sure she was curious, but much like when she was with her boys, she didn’t really care where they went as long as she got to spend time with them. When Elizabeth actually looked away and blushed, however, Rowan’s interest rose. Elizabeth Hollington had _very little_ shame and so her blushing meant she’d either planned on them participating in a world broadcasted BDSM orgy under the ocean or she may have killed someone. Even then, Rowan wasn’t sure if that would be enough to get Liz embarrassed.

 

“Liz?”

 

“Remember how I told you I had a surprise for you?”

 

When they’d discussed their day on the town together, Elizabeth had mentioned a surprise of some sort but Rowan hadn’t paid too much attention to it. Like everything else that wasn’t her boys trying to devour each other, it had slipped Rowan’s mind.

 

_‘I really need to work on that.’_

“Yeah?”

 

She cleared her throat and shoved her hand in Rowan’s direction, and for the first time Rowan noticed the light glint off of her ring finger.

 

“Yeah well I proposed to Aiko and I was kind of hoping you’d be a bridesmaid in the wedding, so I set up a fitting for us today.”

 

Rowan’s mouth dropped open even as her heart swelled.

 

“Liz!”

 

She couldn’t even speak through the rushing of her mind. While she loved her sisters for sure, it had always been hard to really think about what it meant for them to be _sisters_. Their father had cheated on their mother and the affair had resulted in Rowan, yet even after the first accidental meeting the twins had treated her with nothing but acceptance. Hell, after a particularly bad night Elizabeth had even admitted that she sometimes thought of Rowan’s Mama as a second, more laid back mother. There was bad blood in their family for sure, but none was centered on them. Any drama that their parents had going on had never been pushed their way, and for that Rowan was thankful. She never really wanted to know anymore than she had to, anyway.

 

Now, to hear that her exuberant sister had proposed to her own Soul Mate and wanted Rowan to participate in the wedding mean the world.

 

“Rowan?” Liz asked, sounding surprised at the outburst.

 

Energy suddenly coursing through her, Rowan jumped up and hugged her older sister tightly, not bothering to be mindful of the girl’s more willowy form.

 

“Of course I’ll be a part of your wedding.”

 

Elizabeth brought her hands up and grasped Rowan’s with a cheeky smile.

 

“Good, now go put on some pants so we can leave!”

 

_‘Huh?’_

 

And then, for the first time that morning, Rowan realized that she’d been messing around with them devoid of anything but a t-shirt and her panties.

 

_‘Every damn time!’_

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

Tim was having a crisis.

 

This really wasn’t anything new considering his occupation, but the nature of said crisis _was._

 

He could stay up for eight days straight gathering intel, he could fight the toughest of assailants tooth and nail, and he could binge watch an entire show in a day, but coming up with an idea on where to take Damian Wayne on a date was turning out to be his absolute worst nightmare.

 

And it wasn’t even for the reason one would think.

 

The thing was that Tim had been focusing a lot of attention on Rowan lately. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing considering she probably needed it the most between the three of them, but that didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want Damian to feel neglected. Damian was, after all, his Soul Mate just as much as Rowan was.

 

Also he kind of figured they needed to spend some personal time outside of the bedroom.

 

They bickered and clashed more often than not, but it was with a sort of fire that was more backed by a twisted affection than anything else. Damian pushed him and let him push back, and it was something he didn’t know he needed until Damian was gone.

 

So now he found himself sitting in his room, trying to decide if he _really_ wanted to take Damian out to dinner. Or to the movies. Or to the park.

 

Somehow, he was finding all of the normal date ideas lacking. He’d been on dates before and even held steady relationships… But this was _Damian_.

 

Rowan was simple and easily amused, but Damian was pretty much the exact opposite. He didn’t want to take the chance of disappointing the younger boy, nor did he want to make him angry and start a fight.

 

He couldn’t exactly ask any of his other family members for help, either. He could just imagine the responses he would get by saying ‘Hey, I need some help deciding where to take Damian on a date. Yeah I know we’re legally brothers but I’ve only known Damian for ten years of my life and I’ve never once really thought of him as my brother also we’re Soul Mates so all the legal stuff will be fixed later.’

 

Besides that being an awkward mouthful, Jason would probably laugh at him, Steph would be too surprised to give a proper response, and Cass would just be confused.

 

Dick would undoubtedly try his best, but then he’d probably bug them about it for the next month and Tim wasn’t quite ready for that.

 

Alfred was a no go since the man would probably just end up lecturing him on not discussing the situation with him sooner and Bruce… Was Bruce. Tim couldn’t talk to him for obvious reasons.

 

The best person to talk to would probably be Barbara, but she was out of town still and in a completely different time zone.

 

Left with very few options, Tim’s mind continued to turn until he came to his final option: he was going to have to consult Rowan. She had even less experience then he did, but she had a way of simplifying Damian’s complication that he hadn’t quite grasped.

 

He pulled out his phone and ran a hand through his hair as he called his girlfriend in order to figure out how to date his boyfriend. To be honest, after the previous night he wasn’t even sure if she’d pick up the phone.

 

_‘I am so screwed.’_

 

He knew he was even more screwed when on the third ring, he was greeted to mixed laughter and a significantly higher pitched voice then he was used to hearing from his soft spoken girlfriend.

 

“Uh, Rowan?”

 

The voice on the other end laughed harder and he nearly hung up and tried to check the number before she replied.

 

“Nope, this is her sister speaking. What’s up, Tim Cat?”

 

Tim felt immediate aversion to someone else calling him by that name and ended up spluttering.

 

“ _Excuse me_?”

 

There was the sound of scuffling on the other end and a sharp squeak that he recognized before rowan greeted him, sounding slightly out of breath.

 

“Hello? Oh my gosh I’m so sorry.”

 

Tim stared at his wall, still knocked a little bit off of his game but quickly regaining balance.

 

“Who was that?”

 

Tim heard more background chatter for a few moments before getting a reply.

 

“That was my sister Liz. She read your name off of my phone…”

 

Tim didn’t know whether to be charmed or embarrassed.

 

“You have me in your phone under _Tim Cat_?”

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

Forget her sisters killing her; she was going to kill them first.

It turned out that Liz had set up a joint appointment for her and Catherine to get fitted for their outfits. Rowan had been expecting a dress, but instead was faced with a suit… Sort of.

Currently Rowan was wearing a pastel purple shorts and blazer set that was slightly too small as she glared at her sisters.

Both Liz and Aiko had a thing for bright colors. While Aiko was strictly neons, however, Liz had a thing for pastels too. Liz had once lectured Rowan on why pastels were the perfect day time colors as opposed to neons, which where, according to her, ‘Great for looking hot and making the night your bitch.’

As a result Liz had decided that the theme for her wedding was going to be pastels, and had arranged her wedding accordingly. Liz’s dress was, of course, white but the skirt was layered with pastel pink, blue, purple, and green. She’d matched her bridesmaids to the colors in her dress, with each one being a different color.

Apparently all of Liz’s bridesmaids had the same short suit that Rowan was currently wearing, while Catherine was a little different. Rowan’s color was purple, while Catherine was a rainbow to set her apart as the maid of honor. Aiko had bridesmaids too, but Rowan wasn’t quite sure what they looked like. She was sure she was going to see neon somewhere, though. Elizabeth and Aiko had a pretty chill relationship, but Aiko could be assertive when she put her mind to it.

Rowan had only met Aiko in person once, but whenever Liz skyped the Japanese girl was usually in the room somewhere and they talked a little. While Liz was an explosion of color, sound, and movement, Aiko was a bit more reserved.

But only a bit.

She was a DJ like Liz, which was how they’d met. After making her mark in the US, Liz had gone overseas and come back with a Soul Mate who matched her in skill but knew how to be quite when necessary. All in all the two girls were very similar, and made a cute couple.

If Liz kept grinning at her in miming crude gestures, though, Aiko was going to lose a fiancé.

“Don’t worry about your name in my phone,” she finally told Tim as she pushed passed her sisters and an amused tailor in order to walk into the next room for some privacy.

“But _Rowan_. People are going to see it!”

She leaned against a window far away from the entrance to the room her sisters were in and sighed.

“No one’s gonna see it.”

“Your sister saw it.”

He had a point there, but she didn’t spend a lot of time in their presence anyway so he had nothing to worry about.

“That’s only because she was closer to my pants.”

The shop they were in had a fountain outside, and the light glinting off of the water was pretty enough to catch her eye as she gazed out at it.

“Rowan?”

She kind of wanted to go outside and stick her hands in it.

“Why are you not wearing pants?”

He sounded slightly offended and she felt like flicking him.

“My sister’s getting married and I’m getting fitted for my bridesmaid outfit.”

“Oh! That’s great Rowan, tell her I said congratulations. I forgot you were going out with them today.”

_‘I did too.’_

She winced at the thought.

_‘We will not think of pretty, shirtless boys. Say it with me brain!’_

In response, she was only supplied with images of glistening skin and naughty smirks.

“Uh,” she coughed and hit the side of her face lightly to try and dispel the images,” I will. So what was it that you needed?”

There was a long silence. So long, in fact, that she ended up asking after him again.

“Tim?”

He cleared his throat on the other end, and she could have sworn she heard his voice crack.

_‘This absolute nerd…’_

“Soooo…”

She rolled her eyes and kind of wished she was here so she could smack him on the arm.

“So?”

“I need a favor…”

“And this favor would be?” she pressed, trying to let him know that they were getting nowhere, very fast.

“I need to know…”

She swore if he dragged one more sentence on she was just going to assume he wanted another gallon of chocolate ice cream and hang up. He’d done that once, and watching him eat it had been a religious experience.

“…if you have any ideas about where to take Damian on a date?”

Her eyebrows hit her hairline and her vision actually unfocused for a second.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Look I want to take Damian on a date, okay?”

Rowan was seriously at a loss for words. He was calling _her_ of all people for dating advice? Had hell frozen over?

“Uh… I mean… Sure? I’m not quite sure what you expect from me here. I mean I’ve only ever been on one date…” her voice lost its strength towards the end, and she winced at how sad she sounded.

She actually did kind of want to help… She just didn’t know _how_.

“I know Ro, I just need someone to bounce some ideas off of.”

Drawing her hand down her face, Rowan huffed.

“Allright. Okay. So.”

She really didn’t know where to go with this.

“So?” Tim prompted.

“Ergh. Okay how about this: where did you guys go on your last date?”

She hopped to get an idea for that, but after another akward silence, Rowan realized something.

“You guys… You never…?”

She just knew Tim had to be embarrassed by this, and if he wasn’t, she was _for_ him. She was almost sure they were screwing each other senseless and they hadn’t even been on a date?

“To be fair, we do live together.”

Rowan could have slapped him at that moment. She really could have done with one good, hard hit across both of their faces actually. It wouldn’t actually hurt them, but it would relieve some of her frustration.

_‘My Soul Mates are emotionally stunted idiots.’_

“Okay, so to be honest just go for a walk or take him to the zoo or something.”

At this point she was saying things _she’d_ done with Damian, but she figured Tim was smart enough to make it romantic somehow.

There was no hope for him if he wasn’t.

“Doesn’t Damian go to the Zoo about fifteen times a week anyway?”

“Yeah, but has he ever gone with _you_?”

She could hear the revealation in Tim’s voice.

“ _Oh_.”

Really, even she wasn’t this bad. The only explination she had was sad, terryfing, and awe inspiring all at once.

“Tim? When was the last time you went to sleep?”

The young man on the other lined hummed slightly in thoughts.

“What’s today?”

_‘That’s not a bad sign at all.’_

“It’s Sunday.”

“Oh. Then Tuesday I guess.”

Even _she_ didn’t stay up like that.

“ _Tim!_ ”

“It’s not a big deal Rowan, you know I’ve stayed up for longer.”

She was beside herself at this point. It was no wonder he’d called her for dating advice, he was _delirious._

“I am going to hang up, you are going to go to sleep, and if I find out you didn’t I am telling Alfred.”

And with the threat left hanging in the air, Rowan hung up the phone with an exasperated sigh. Her boys were hopeless.

Absolutely, positively hopeless and at this point she feared for the world if this was what all of the heroes were like behind the spandex. Take down an alien empire? No sweat. Take your damn boyfriend on a date? _Holy shit the world was ending guys I guess there’s no helping it._

“Fucking hopeless…” she murmured.

She adored them anyway, and somehow found herself pulling up a picture of them she’d taken a while ago. It was after a particularly bad argument, and Damian had his forearm up against Tim’s throat as Tim tried to knee him in the stomach. Their gazes were locked, and despite everything the fire there was more passion than anything else.

_‘Ridiculous…’_

“What’s hopeless?” a voice intoned from just behind her.

Eyes going wide, Rowan’s head jerked and she immediately shoved her phone up her shirt. Spinning around, she caught sight of Elizabeth grinning widely while Catherine leaned over her shoulder with an identical grin.

She scowled at them, and slowly pulled her phone from its place.

“…You two heard the entire conversation didn’t you?”

Their grins got wider and she legitimately contemplated jumping out of the window. That fountain was looking more and more inviting.

“That depends; where you ever going to tell us that you were _actually_ dating _both_ of them?” Catherine asked, avoiding Rowan’s question entirely.

Now thoroughly confused, Rowan covertly closed her photo album app and moved towards her sisters.

“I… Thought you guys already knew?”

They’d been teasing her about it for months, so she’d just assumed that they’d figured it out on their own.

Liz gave a particularly aggressive ‘pop’ of her gum and tossed her hair.

“Hardley! You’ve been fucking around with those boys for years. If we went by that alone I would say you three have been dating for two years, at the least.”

Rin nodded in agreement, and Rowan brought her hand up to her face and groaned.

Her sisters took that as their cue to box her in and throw an arm over her shoulders. Catherine had her left, while Elizabeth had her right and the twins grasped each other’s shoulders as the pushed her forward.

“Aww,” Liz started,” don’t be embarrassed, Macaroni. I for one, think it’s cute!”

That only made it worse, and Rowan refused to look at anyone as she was ushered back into the fitting room. Her sister’s handed her off to an amused tailor, and Rowan continued to stare into space as her sisters chattered behind her.

Catherine was already done, so they just had to get Rowan’s adjustments before they could leave. For the most part everything fit, but the jacket was a little small and the sleeveless button down was pulling tight across her bust. It was actually so bad that her Soul Mark could be seen peeking from between the buttons.

For a moment, her sisters left her alone, and she was almost able to relax.

Then they came at her full force.

“Soooo…. What do your marks look like?”

Rowan choked on air and held back a squeak when a rather pointy pin jabbed her in the side. She caught the scandalized gaze of the tailor and tried to convey her apology for her sister nonverbally.

The tailor looked to be in her mid nineties, and Rowan knew that in the older generations it was considered in bad taste to ask after another’s Marks. They were meant to be very personal, but nowadays people were more liberal with them.

Rowan wished she’d been born in a time where you could still sock someone for asking about your Marks.

“Liz…” she warned, looking to Catherine to back her up.

Catherine was always the more level headed of the two, but apparently she’d chosen the day to let her hair down and simply raised her eyebrow in return.

“Come on, Macaroni,” Catherine pushed,” you’ve seen ours.”

Catherine had the words ‘Thank God, I thought I was gonna have to learn how to fake an orgasm for the rest of my life’ tinted a shining gold, while Elizabeth’s was actually the words ‘You really know how to get the crowd going,’ underlined with neon orange sound wavelengths.

Catherine hadn’t met her Soul Mate yet, but Elizabeth, of course, had. According to the purple haired DJ, Aiko’s mark read ‘Bring that cute ass over my way and I’ll show you how I well I can get you going.’

After hearing _that_ particular story from her sister, Rowan had come to the conclusion that Elizabeth would never be prouder of anything more so than the words on her Soul Mates skin.

Face screwing up; Rowan decided that the only way to keep her sisters from bothering the hell out of her was to give in.

 

“Fine, I’ll show you when I change back into my clothes…” she grumbled.

She heard the distinctive sound of a high five, and hopped that her sisters would shut up before the tailor became to scandalized and kicked them out.

“Twenty bucks says it’s they’re on her ass,” Rin said mildly.

“One on each cheek?” Liz asked.

There was no sound, but Rowan figured Rin was nodding. Liz’s next word confirmed it.

“Deal!”

Rowan could only pray that they wouldn’t make a big deal over the fact that her words were not, in face on her ass. One mark was actually just under her boobs, while the other was pretty much right above her vagina.

The knowledge made her body still and she stared into the distance with one thought.

_‘This… Is probably actually going to turn out worse.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> B)   
> Tell me what you think? The good, the bad, and the downright ugly! (Who am I kidding, you all are beautiful)  
> I missed you guys, and I hope you enjoyed this 


	39. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys want to see Tim and Dami on a date? Probably. Will I write it? Probably not.  
> Why not? I have no idea, but every time I try my hands want to type something else.  
> So, now we have this. It’s relevant to the plot, for sure, but yeah.  
> I’m sorry it’s so short, and I’m sorry it’s so scattered. I’ve been really caught up in Roleplaying lately, so I’m sorry if this isn’t up to par with what you guys are used to… But I really need to start moving the plot along.

The day after she went out with her sisters, Rowan was faced with a rather complex issue.

She knew that Tim and Damian thought she didn’t keep secrets from them.

They were right, of course, but it was a testament to their arrogance that while she never lied to them, there were still things she kept to herself.

There were still things she kept _for_ herself.

She tried not to lie, she couldn’t really. She didn’t like to be dishonest when the trait only seemed to bring trouble, but there were some things she wasn’t fond of sharing without prompting. Even then, she knew that there were some thoughts that Damian and Tim just didn’t really need to know.

There weren’t many, of course. They were, after all, her best friends. They were still there, though, so she kept them organized on a mental list.

The first thing she ever decided to shove in the box labeled ‘Not For the Boys’ was her Mama’s relationship with her Father. That was messy, and not quite something she could ever help to fully understand herself, and so she’d always tried her best to lock it away from the people she cared about.

That one had found its way out eventually. Really, it had been the only secret she’d kept for a long time.

Then there came Lucy.

She wasn’t a horrible girl. She had her flaws, sure, but everyone else did too. But there was something about Lucy that had set Rowan on edge.

Getting close to Lucy wasn't something she'd planned. Like most things, it just sort of happened when she wasn't paying attention.

 

Now, if she'd been able to see the outcome of her relationship with the younger girl, Rowan might have tried to stop it on its tracks. She might've tried to put some space between them.

 

Maybe she even would have encouraged it.

 

In the end, however, she'd had none of those choices. All she'd had was a tentative connection with a little girl who didn't know how to stay out of trouble, and the trust of an aunt at her wits end.

 

That connection had grown until she’d found herself with a surrogate little sister. Lucy had too much sass and not enough sense, but she also had _passion,_ and Rowan loved that about the girl. She loved it in the way she loved her Mama’s iron will, and her Gran’s sly tendencies. She loved it in the way she loved Elizabeth’s crassness, and Catherine’s practical tendencies. She loved it in the way that she loved Tim’s need to take care of everyone, and Damian’s protective instincts for his family.

 

She loved it in the way that she loved the little things about the people who were such a large part of her life, and perhaps that was why in the end, she let the girl settle into a little part of her heart until nothing short of a crowbar in her chest could yank her out.

 

With that firmly in place, it should have been surprise that she supremely fucked herself over for the little girl without even knowing it.

It was a simple thing, really, and it started with her leaving her house late in the afternoon because she hadn’t yet learned how to refuse Lucy’s rather potent puppy dog eyes yet. The girl had all but begged for them to have a sleepover, and Rowan hadn’t been able to say no without feeling like she was kicking a puppy. So, resigned to a night of painting nails and braiding the younger girl’s hair, she had arrived at the apartment Lucy lived in with her aunt.

 

She wasn’t expecting to see anything but Lucy’s tired aunt answering the door, perhaps with her dirty blonde hair twisted up and a thankful smile on her face. The woman was always grateful when Rowan arrived simply because it meant that she didn’t have to keep up with the mini hurricane that was Lucy for the night.

 

What she got, however, was not Lucy’s overworked aunt. To her credit though, a blonde _did_ answer the door.

 

Only this blonde wore her hair in dip dyed pigtails, had black sunglasses, a body to kill for, and an air of subtle superiority that said ‘I could probably kick your ass’ that Rowan had only ever seen on people who tangled with the complex ideals of justice.

 

While her boys generally didn’t bring superhero business around her, she had seen mug shots and the such scattered in their rooms or pulled up on their computers or phones when she was around them. It was unavoidable really, which was why it only took about four seconds for Rowan to match the features and build to a rather well known villain. A lot of people never really tried to make the connections, but Rowan had spent too much time around Damian and Tim _not to_.

 

Really, Rowan should have seen it coming. She had a penchant for attracting the weird ones, it seemed, so who was to say Gotham's most infamous would never cross her path?

 

"Hey there, darlin'," the buxom blonde said with a wild grin.

 

She should have been scared out of her mind, really she should have. Knowing Lucy's mom was Harley Quinn, however, just made way too much sense, so in the end, all Rowan did was sigh and rub at her face.

 

If death was coming for her in the form of a murderous trickster, then he might as well get in line because her boys were gonna kill her for this. 

 

Rowan was not some big hero or villain, she would never know the strength it took to stand up and fight tooth and nail for what you believed in.

 

No, she did not know strength, but she knew weakness. And standing there, looking at the femme fatale that was most definitely Harley Quinn reclining on a beat up couch watching monster truck madness with her daughter, Rowan saw weakness.

 

Rowan wasn't a good liar, nor did she want to be, but she would not be the one to steal the smile from Lucy's face. Harley Quinn may have done some horrible things, but Harleen Quinzel was a mother who quite obviously loved her child-

 

So much, that she'd given her up to protect her.

 

As her mind whispered about hypocrisy and he blood stained hands she let touch her without pause, Rowan knew she wouldn't ruin this. If her boys asked, she'd tell them, but this was not something they needed to know. After all, the life of heroes and villains wasn't her business anyway. 

 

And who was she to define that line anyway?

The age old question was what was the true difference between a hero and a villain?

Was Batman the paragon of good simply because he refused to kill to achieve his goals? But then what did that make his son? The boy who strived to follow in his father’s footsteps, but had just as much blood on his hands as any villain?

Was Harley Quinn the poster child for evil because she cuased pain without regard and thrived in her insanity? But then here she was, laughing in cut off shorts and a crop top next to a smaller, more innocent version of herself.

Both had power to elevate them from the normal good and bad guys, both moved through the darker parts of society no one wanted to deal with. Both ended up fucked over in the end.

The only answer she could come up with was that really, there was nothing. They were all just different people who took different paths in life.

Later, when she’d went home, it was these questions of morality that kept her up for the rest of the week.

It was the realization that she’d found herself entwined with one of Batman’s greatest enemies in the most innocent of ways that made her realize that she wasn’t going to be able to slide by without getting tangled in the complexities of the Superhero aspect of her boys’ lives.

The fact of the matter was that she needed them to let her in just a little more if she was going to be able to be with them. It was a terrifying prospect, but she needed it to happen. She knew they’d kept her out and separate from that part of themselves in fear of her getting hurt, but she couldn’t stay in the separate little box they kept her in. Not anymore.

Because now she couldn’t look at the stars without imagining them as a visual display of how she felt when they’d kissed her. They kissed her like she was worth it.

Tim kissed her like she was bright and precious and he never wanted to let her go.

Damian made her feel ready to combust; a sentient burning mess ready to go supernova at the slightest provocation.

Together, they made her feel like more than the scared little girl that she was. They made her feel less like the world was waiting to crush her and more like she had two strong backs to help her support the onslaught.

She looked at the stars and remembered the way they kissed her liked they cared, and she took the feeling and locked it away to keep as a balm because no matter how hard she tried her mind insisted that it was a matter of time before they realized that they’d overestimated her worth. Her mind insisted that she wasn’t good enough, and so when her heart took the hit one too many times, she grasped at the memory and tried to prove herself wrong.

She’d needed that more than she could have ever realized, and she wouldn’t let anyone take it from her. Not even them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …..I’m sorry if that didn’t make sense, and if it was too short…..


	40. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, I’ve been a little tired and stretched for time lately and school has been hard on me this year. I’m sorry I haven’t been writing as much as I used too, but things have been different. I wanted to add more too this, but I decided to give you guys something, since for some reason you all enjoy my story. Don’t get me wrong, I love the fact that you do!
> 
> Also, do know I’ve got 2300 words typed up for the next chapter already! And something tells me you guys are gonna enjoy it, lol.  
> (I’m just going to assume that since no one commented on the last chapter, no one liked it?)

Rowan was bored.

 

Now normally, this didn’t mean much. Rowan was bored often, like most young teenagers. Sure she had school work she could be doing, but she also had absolutely nothing else she could be doing and of course she chose the better option.

 

So, in the end, it was probably the boredom that lead her to texting her boys. She texted them the same thing because she was lazy, but didn’t quite go as far as to put it into the same message thread. She’d give them that much effort at the least.

‘What’re you doing?’

Damian texted back first, and she attested that to the fact that she was pretty sure his phone was becoming a part of his physical being. The last time they were together she was sure that she’d seen some bonding between the organic flesh of his hand and the metal of his phone. He really did need to put some distance between himself and his electronics.

‘I just got out of the shower.’

Her fingers were flying before she could really think about it, and she only realized her mistake after she’d hit ‘send’.

‘You’re wet, aren’t you?’

That had sounded _wrong_ when she’d really only been referring to his hair. Groaning, Rowan brought her hand up to her face and pushed it up under her glasses harshly.

_‘Please don’t notice oh my god.’_

Her phone vibrated, and she peaked at it between her fingers.

‘Mostly. I actually haven’t stepped out of the shower yet.’

Her eyes immediately tried to roll because she just couldn’t believe the boy sometimes. He was developing a serious issue if he was standing in the shower _texting_.

‘Wow, just couldn’t wait to talk to me, huh?’

She rolled onto her side to get more comfortable, and caught sight of a half eaten bag of Cheetohs.

_‘Score!’_

She was popping one of the artificial cheesy puffs into her mouth when she read her next text.

‘What would be the point?’

Something in her warmed at that, and she continued to crunch on her snack as she decided to tease him.

‘Dude. You’re dripping in the shower texting me instead of getting dressed like a normal person.’

‘You have a problem with me being wet?’

‘Not if it’s for me.’

Her eyes scanned over their last few messages as she waited for him to text back, and she nearly choked on a Cheetoh.

_'Wait-'_

'I don't particularly mind being wet for you.'

Her mouth dropped open and bits of Cheetoh puffed out with her exhalation. Damian was playing with her, there was just no _way_ their conversation was just happening like that. A part of her wanted to say it was her newfound hypersensitivity because of their changing relationship that was making all of their texts seem so... _Scandalous,_ but another part of her didn't want to believe that this was flying over Damian's head.

Mystified, Rowan decided to be overt as possible and channel her inner fuck boy.

'What else would you do for me?'

She couldn’t quite bring herself to send him the winking face. And, okay so maybe they were dating, but there was no way that they'd stumble into anything as obscene as sending dirty texts.

'...what would you want me to do?'

' _Wait hold the fuck up.'_

'What do you have in mind?'

Her glasses slid down her face and a Cheetoh fell out of the bag and onto her chest, but she ignored them both. Damian was a teenage boy but even he wouldn't actually go so far as to sit there and try to _sext_ her. Sure, they spoke to each other in weird ways and there was always the possibility of making anything and everything sexual but Damian just wasn't the type...

'It depends on what you'd be willing to let me do.'

Okay, at this point she wasn't even sure that they were referring to the same things and the entire situation was just becoming surreal.

'What if I don't care???'

She shifted and the Cheetoh fell between her breasts, but she left it. She could always eat it later...

'You always care.'

...Okay it was later. Rowan dug out the Cheetoh and popped it in her mouth, dusting away the remains of powdered cheese on her boobs.

'Humor me.'

She was really getting curious at that point. She blamed that on boredom. He was probably going to tell her about some animal shelter he wanted to raid, or some zoo he wanted to buy. She just had to wait for it.

'What I want to do to you has less to do with humor and more to do with pleasure.'

She knocked the Cheetoh's away and bolted upright, leaning in close to her phone.

'Oh?'

_'No fucking way this is not happening to me!'_

'I love the way you breathe.'

Okay, that was nowhere near what she thought it was going to be and she was pulled back from the mini panic attack she'd almost had. It was still weird, but she wasn’t freaking out yet.

'Really?'

His reply came later than the others, almost as if he'd hesitated to even send it.

'Yes. I could spend hours laving at your stomach with my hand around your throat just to feel your breath stutter.'

_‘Holy shit I am going straight to hell.'_

In that moment, Rowan's entire body burned and she nearly threw her phone into the wall.

_'Leave it to Damian Wayne to be weird, kinky, and eloquent at the same god damned time!'_

'...you want to choke me????'

She was most definitely not squeaking. Nope, not at all. Damian would never hurt her like that and it was too weird for her to even comprehend.

'No, Rowan. I don't want to hurt you I just want to get as close as I possibly can to you so that I can feel what you feel.'

She thought it was funny how different people here when texting, while still being the same. Damian was kind of sweet in an almost scary way.

'And putting your hand around my throat is the way to do that?'

It was much easier to put her thoughts out there when the person she was talking couldn't be seen, heard, and was pretty far away.

'Yes. I could also wrap my body around you while you ride me, but you asked what I wanted to do to you and that's the least of it.'

Okay it was one thing to hype herself up and break through Damian and Tim's sexual tension, but it was an entirely new thing to be a part of said sexual tension. She wasn't even sure how she felt about the daunting thought, and so she shoved it firmly into the 'nope' action of her brain. 

‘What do you mean the least of it?’

This time, her reply didn’t come until an _hour_ later, and to say she was anxious was an understatement.

‘Tim informs me that I may have been out of line, and I apologize.’

At this point, Rowan wasn’t quite sure how to feel, so instead of texting back, being embarrassed, or even badgering Tim for his response, she laughed.

She laughed until her phone had slipped out of her hand.

She laughed until the rest of her Cheetoh’s had slipped onto the floor.

She laughed until her sides hurt, and she head tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

She laughed until her Mama pushed open her door, looking at her like she was crazy.

She laughed because her boys were fucking _ridiculous_ , and she may or may not love them for it.

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

The next day, when she tried to leave for school only to be greeted with a bouquet of gorgeous white flowers in front of the shop’s entrance, she laughed even harder because the card read ‘ _Please Forgive me – Damian Wayne_ ’ signed in perfect cursive, and the box of chocolates beside said had ‘ _Sorry – Tim_ ’ scrawled across it in crooked writing.

She may or may not have smiled herself silly for the rest of the day when she found out, via the ever handy google, that the flowers were called Stars of Bethlehem, and they meant representing your desire to earn a redo and have a chance to right your wrong.

_‘They’re so fucking extra.’_

She knew she probably wasn’t any better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is trash and probably OOC and Dami will have to explain himself later, but you know what? I laughed while I wrote it and in the end, that’s all that matters.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually so difficult to write, especially since I was afraid that I was going too fast, and I just wanted to get everything right. 
> 
> Butter Pecan Carmel Ice Cream and tears helped me get through certain parts of this chapter, can you guess which parts?
> 
> And now, something everyone’s been waiting for, I think: 
> 
> Warning: F/M Situations of a Sexual Nature

One thing Rowan had learned over the years about people was that they tended to underestimate her. A glaring example of this was the fact that more often than not, people assumed that just because she was quiet, she had nothing to say.

 

The truth was, however, quite the opposite. It wasn’t that she had nothing to say, but that she was simply holding back _too much_. Her mind was constantly turning, taking in information and storing it before moving onto to something else, forgetting things even as she remembered. Her head was chaos unless she could find a focus, and most of the time she couldn’t locate the words to say what she needed to amidst the disorder.

 

Only a few days after her visit with Lucy, Rowan was experiencing this issue as she sat through her last class, tapping her pencil on the desk in time to her rapid fire thoughts.

 

Harley, as Lucy’s mom had preferred to be called, hadn’t done more than appraise Rowan with an all too sharp eye. Rowan knew the stories; she knew the woman’s background. She’d been a psychiatrist before she’d been seduced by madness, and she’d never lost the skill from what Rowan could tell. Every second with her had felt like she was being dissected from the outside in, and without a doubt, Rowan knew that Harley was aware that she knew of the older woman’s main occupation.

 

Despite this, Harley hadn’t said anything. They’d eaten pizza, watched some TV, and the blonde hadn’t done more than help paint their nails and dye Lucy’s hair. She was loud and energetic, much like her daughter, and there had been a weird sort of ease.

 

Then again, Rowan supposed if she’d ever actually seen Harley Quinn in action, she’d be singing a different tune.

 

As it was, her mind was abuzz with the implications of her presence, and those thoughts branched off until she was left with the fact that everyone had faces they put on for the world, and she was beginning to wonder if her boys truly showed her theirs. Their hero identities were bits and pieces of them, she knew; parts of a whole. Her issue was that she was far too attached to them to ever let go, and she needed them to realize that one day, she was going to need all of them.

 

On the flip side, however, she knew they would need all of her.

 

That’s why, as she tapped her pencil and probably pissed off her fellow students, she decided that she was going to finally show Tim and Damian her soul marks.

 

She knew they’d been wanting to see the marks for a while, Damian especially, but for her it was really… Personal. It wasn’t really a valid argument, she knew, since everyone’s mark was personal, but for her it was different. The placement, the appearance, all of it.

 

It would be revealing a lot to them, and it made her nervous beyond belief.

 

Still, she managed a text that told them she planned to come over after school, because even she couldn’t afford to be cagey forever. She had things to say, and even if she couldn’t quite get them to form in a way she liked, and even if they didn’t listen, it would help her just to get them off of her chest.

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

Tim didn’t really sleep, not anymore.

 

When he was younger, he was good at powering through entire days before crashing. He’d end up sleeping for well over 12 hours before waking up reinvigorated and doing it all over again. He’d had reports to write, leads to follow, missions to go on, and so much more. There had just been so much to _do_.

 

There still was.

 

If he was honest with himself, he could admit that maybe he’d taken on more and more as the years went by, but that was what he was good at. Dick was the acrobat who had charisma to spare, Jason was rough but reliable when it came down to it, and Damian was the true born son who handled the Wayne Empire with natural ease. But Tim?

 

Tim was the detective and could get things _done_. Working in the background was what he did best, so he made sure to work hard.

 

When he’d first took up the role of Robin, all he’d wanted was to help Batman, and now that he knew the man behind the cowl, Bruce had been added to his list. He trained when he needed to learned how to be the best Robin he could be because someone had to. Batman _always_ needed a Robin, and as it turned out, Bruce needed his children.

 

When Dick had come into the picture Tim had been content to ease up just the littlest bit because he’d seen the connection Bruce had with his first Robin, he’d seen the love and devotion. He’d also seen the hole left by Jason, and so he tried his best not to fill it (because he knew better), but to mend the wound.

 

And then Jason had come back too, and he hadn’t had to work so hard. But then simple math told him that wasn’t quite true because even if he didn’t have to try so hard to live up to Dick anymore and even if he didn’t have to try and carve out his own place to help distract Bruce from the one Jason had vacated, he now had an official role as a superhero to fill and two more people to add to his list.

 

Over the years, his list grew to include Alfred, Barbara, and Cassandra, among others.

 

He’d been managing these people; his hectic life. By design, everyone had a set role in the family, and he had to do his best in the one he’d been given.

 

He’d been managing, at least, right up until he met Damian.

 

Damian was something else all together. Damian was irritating, violent, and bratty at the best of times.

 

But Damian was also hard working, focused, and almost protective to a fault. Damian had his flaws, but at the end of the day Tim knew the younger boy was ready to put his life on the line for their family with no reservations.

 

Sure, it may have taken him a while to realize that, but he had. He’d realized that Damian’s heart, while well guarded, was large and as fragile as anyone else’s. Damian, when it came down to it, could break just as easily as the rest of them despite his tough upbringing and even tougher self expectations.

 

And maybe that was why Tim was in love with him. Or at least, Tim was pretty sure he was in love with him.

 

Tim had nothing to compare the hazy, somehow safe shot of adrenaline he got whenever they fought to. He had no previously collected data to tell him why seeing Damian paint, or sleep, or pretty much in any moment of peace made his heart skip and ache. He didn’t know how to dissect the flames that licked at his body every time they kissed when all of his previous experience had incited lust, but never the all consuming feeling he got with his Soul Mate.

 

Except, maybe Rowan, but she brought on a whole other slew of feelings that he was almost afraid to feel. With Damian, he could tell where he stood, but Rowan was a balancing act and he was always afraid of making the wrong move.

 

He didn’t know who to ask, either, because in the end, Tim was supposed to be the detective. He was supposed to be able to figure things out, and while it was true Damian was his Soul Mate, Tim couldn’t quite understand why because he didn’t know exactly how to describe everything he felt.

 

It was everything and nothing, so he simply decided to call it love and figure the rest out later.

 

These were people who meant something to him, who he would do anything for and anything to protect and if that meant getting a little less sleep, well, then that wasn’t a large price to pay as far as he was concerned.

 

In the end, his botched sleeping schedule was how he ended up looking at updates on a human trafficking ring in Damian’s room when the boy exited his bathroom, dressed in nothing but a towel as he apparently sexted their girlfriend. It had only taken Tim five minutes of thinking and a twenty minute argument with Damian to conclude that they all had no idea what they were doing and that Rowan was most likely freaked out in her bed while Damian continued to puzzle over whether or not he had been appropriate.

 

(He hadn’t, but Tim let it slide on the fact that Damian had gotten hit pretty hard on the head that night.)

 

Tim was quickly realizing that amidst all of his worrying, planning, and everything else he had going on, he’d failed to calculate in the quickly changing tides of his relationships.

With that in mind, it was safe to say that he was a little bit terrified when Rowan messaged them about coming over after the texting mishap, because in his world of order she was an unknown variable.

When put together with Damian, it was the perfect recipe for making his mind scramble.

 

When the familiar soft ‘thud’ of an open hand hitting thick wood rang through Damian’s room, Tim could almost feel his thoughts to begin to disarray.

 

When he opened the door to find Rowan talking in soft tones with Alfred, the older man donning a recognizable look of slyness and parental approval all rolled into one, Tim began to suspect that the elderly butler was in on his demise.

 

When Alfred left them with the information that dinner would be ready in a few hours, and Rowan was more than welcome to stay, Tim wondered when Rowan had found the time to grow so comfortable with one of the men who had helped raise him.

 

When she turned to him, wide eyes shining with mirth that she’d seemingly shared with Alfred, he felt his heart skip and he knew he wouldn’t have been so affected had he not spent so much time thinking about her and Damian in the moments before.

 

Then he caught sight of her loose, extra short running shorts, handmade bracelets up to her elbows, and Cheshire Cat T-Shirt all topped off with frizzed out twin braids kept in line by nothing but a beanie and it was so painfully _Rowan_ that it made his heart hurt.

 

“I still can’t believe that they changed the Cheshire cat’s color from purple to blue in the Tim Burton adaption,” he found himself blurting, feeling incredibly stupid with every word.

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

It took Rowan a full five seconds to figure out he’d seen the blue cat on her shirt before she grinned and pulled the material slightly away from her body to peer down at the print.

 

“Y’know, I think I like the blue better…”

 

Tim scoffed as he moved out of the way so that she could walk into the room, and her smile widened as she caught sight of Damian.

 

“Okay Rowan, but consider this: accuracy,” Tim retaliated as he seated himself at the desk in the room.

 

She stuck her tongue out at him and kicked off her converse, leaning up against the end of the bed as Damian stood to greet her.

 

“Tim, you can lecture Rowan on accuracy when you finally admit that there is literally no reason for Anakin to revert back to his 22 year old body when he appeared as a ghost in Return of the Jedi,” Damian drawled.

 

Rowan fought back a snicker when she watched Tim’s face immediately turn a rather alarming shade of red as he whipped around, looking ready to start a fight right then and there.

 

“Don’t you dare question a cinematic master piece such as Star Wars!”

 

Rowan’s snickering had tried turning into full blown laughter, and she had to hold onto the bed post as she muffled herself with her free hand, awkward snorts still finding their way through.

 

Instead of acknowledging Tim’s vehement defense of his almost unhealthy obsession, Damian walked towards the center of the room and seemed to eye something behind her.

 

“Rowan, are you really going to leave your shoes like that?”

 

Sobering, but still not wiping the wry amusement off of her face, Rowan glanced back at the one converse she’d left by the door and the other that had found itself kicked off closer to the bed.

 

She turned back to him with one eyebrow raised because honestly, he’d left three masks, two and a half pairs of gloves, and countless other things scattered across her room and he was worried about _her_ shoes?

 

“What?” he snapped, now actually straightening her scuffed black and white converse into a neat pair next to his doorway once he realized that she had no intention of doing so herself.

 

“Nothiiing,” she sing songed as her eyes wondered over towards Tim,” what’re you working on over there?”

 

If she would have known that asking him _that_ was what led to the next few very awkward, very confusing moments, she wouldn’t have wanted to ask.

 

But she still would have, because some things needed to be said.

 

“It’s nothing important…” Tim replied.

 

Though normally she would have accepted it, at the moment she was feeling a little nosier than usual.

 

“Well I mean, if you’re working on it, isn’t it important?”

 

She honestly didn’t think she was being out of line, so when Tim’s reply came back with a cold edge she began to feel pretty uncomfortable and ended up twisting her hands awkwardly into her top.

 

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, Rowan. It’s a hero thing.”

 

She didn’t know what made her say it, but she didn’t think it was something she wanted to take back. Her mind was a confusing place, and sometimes she needed to set that free.

 

"Say what you want, but sometimes it's not just about being the hero.  Sometimes it's about letting a person save themselves,” she murmured, still winding the cloth of her sweatshirt around her fingers.

 

Tim turned on her with a quizzical look, and she knew he, at least, was trying to figure out where she was coming from. Really, just having them follow her train of thought was all she could ask for at the moment.

 

"Wouldn't that defeat the point of having heroes in the first place?" Tim eventually asked.

 

"No. As far as I'm concerned, part of being a hero is knowing when to give yourself a break and let the world save itself."

 

Her mind was quickly tiring of the subject at hand, knowing that they wouldn’t get where she was coming from; knowing especially that Damian simply wasn’t capable. She didn’t think he’d ever really stopped fighting once he’d started.

 

"Rowan, do you even understand what injustice actually is?" Damian scoffed, and she could feel the acidic bite he was known for showing through.

 

Sighing, Rowan rocked back and stared at the ceiling.   


Words, words words.

 

She had so many, and not enough all at once.

 

"I understand that for the two of you, I'm technically a weakness and I don't want to be. I want you two to realize that you can't have everything under control all the time, and that if you let me in a little more it'll make things easier in the long run."

 

She wanted them to trust her, but maybe that was too much to ask. Maybe she couldn’t really handle it all, and they were simply protecting her from more than she could handle.

 

"Rowan, you're not making any sense, where is this coming from all of a sudden?” Damian asked sharply.

 

Seeing that she wasn't accurately getting her point across, she shook her head.

 

"Say whatever you want, but one day something's gonna happen and you'll wish that you trusted me just a little bit more," she finished, deciding to leave it at that.

 

She was tired of all the doubt she found suddenly creeping into her every thought.

 

 _"_ Don't worry about it, Ro,” Tim said gently.

 

Damian, on the other hand, was as intense as ever.

 

“Anyone who even attempted to hurt you would hardly live to see another day, I can promise you that. I’m not so pathetic that I can’t protect my Soul Mate.”

 

Tongue caught between her teeth, Rowan turned until she was staring at Damian.

 

“I know.”

 

Now normally, she would have taken his words in a stride. Superhero business wasn't her thing, and she had no right to stick her nose in it anyway. But, with that said, she also knew that by becoming so close to two heroes, she was just setting herself up for disaster. They faced death on the daily and it wasn't a stretch to think that they may end up bringing that death home.

 

She was sure the boys realized this, just as she was sure that keeping her away from the full realization of their current events was how they sought to protect her. The reality was, however, that they couldn't protect her from everything. From their perspective keeping her away from their investigations seemed like a good plan, but she at least wanted to know what they were dealing with so if anything ever came her way, she could get the hell out of dodge.

 

Knowing when to run wasn't cowardice. It was simply self preservation.

_'You guys can't keep me out of it forever. That's not the way the world works.'_

She just hoped they learned to trust her before their world came crashing down on her head. If not, then she at least hopped she could figure out a way to save herself.

 

(Deep inside, she wondered if this lack of belief in her coping capabilities spanned farther than that. The voice that liked to wonder if she was really good enough for them decided that yes, it was only a matter of time before they realized she was too much trouble after all.)

 

"Rowan?" Damian inquired, making her look up to see him paused midway through his task.

 

She raised her eyebrows so he knew he had her attention.

 

"Is there something wrong?"

 

_'I'm afraid you two will change your minds about this and it's stupid because of course you won't but maybe you will but you're my best friends and I don't know what's wrong with me what's wrong with us but it's nothing it's stupid I'm being stupid it's-'_

 

Her eyes rolled back until she was staring at the ceiling and she shrugged. When she couldn't force her eyes any farther back, she started leaning her head until she was falling onto the bed behind her, arms spread wide.

 

"Tt."

 

Rowan couldn't see Damian's face, but she heard the tapping of keys once again from Tim and so she blew a raspberry in reply.

 

The action most defiantly _did not_ end with a couple flecks of spit landing on her own cheek.

 

"Look Rowan, why did you even come here tonight?" Damian eventually chimed in.

 

She reared at his words and tried not to feel offended.

 

"I..."

 

Two sets of eyes stared her down, one irritated, the other angry, and both confused and very, very tired.

 

"I just thought you'd want to see my marks."

 

Any animosity that had been in the room evaporated and Rowan managed one steady inhalation before her nerves bore down on her for an entirely different reason.

 

"Are you serious?" Tim gaped.

 

The surprised yet hopeful looks on their faces gave her the strength to nod.

 

"...unless you two don't want to see them right now?"

 

_'Please say no.'_

 

Her nerves were done, and she was just about ready jump out the nearest window.

 

"Show us," Damian replied without a second wasted.

 

Tim didn't say anything as he pulled out his chair, turned it around, and all but fell into it. All the while his gaze never left hers.

 

_'Fuck.'_

 

"A-ah, um. I- okay. Yeah I just- okay."

 

Of all the ways she'd imagined the night going, having them stare at her from across the room was not one of them. Quickly, she tried to figure out a way to transition towards yanking up her shirt without it being too awkward.

 

_'Maybe if they show me theirs first? Yeah. I still haven't seen both of Tim's'_

 

"Can I see both of yours first?"

 

Tim suddenly cracked up from his side of the room, startling Rowan.

 

He looked up to both her and Damian staring, and grinned widely.

 

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours?"

 

Any apprehension she had dropped and she wanted to flick him for freaking her out.

 

_'This nerd is gonna kill me.'_

"Well, you can already see mine," Damian put in, stepping closer to the both of them.

 

He was right, of course. She'd ignored the fact that he was already shirtless when she'd come into his room. Bare from the waist up was a good look on him.

 

And Rowan definitely did not need to think about that.

 

"All right, I guess it's my turn then," Tim voiced.

 

He stood up smoothly, and walked over to Rowan before turning.

 

"Help me out? I’ve still got my skin patches on."

 

The coy look he shot her from over his shoulder was ridiculous. Her only saving grace was the fact that she actually knew what he was talking about. While they were on duty, they wore extremely high tech patches that melded seamlessly to their skin in order to hide their marks. Accidently flashing them was a good way to blow one’s secret identity, after all.

 

As he pulled off his T- shirt and lifted his hair, she figured one of his Soul Marks had to be on the back of his neck, and she wondered if it was hers or Damian’s.

 

"I dunno Tim. Last time I helped you remove something sticky from your body, I pretty much ripped your skin off.”

 

Damian’s eyebrows met his hairline at that.

 

"What?"

 

She reached for the back of his neck anyway, uttering two simple words.

 

"Peanut butter."

 

The quiet 'ah' from Damian said that his mind had led him to the right place.

 

On her end, however, the expanse of skin being revealed to her was leading her mind to the completely _wrong_ place. Read: straight to the gutter. The last time she’d had to unzip Tim, the skin under his suit had been an angry red from irritation. Now, however, all she was seeing was healthy, albeit extremely pale skin.

 

“You okay back there?” Tim suddenly asked.

 

With a start, Rowan realized she’d completely stopped breathing. Sucking in a ragged breath, she continued to reach until her fingertips were rested against the back of his neck, not managing to feel anything.

 

“I’m fine,” she murmured,” I just got blinded by the light reflecting off your skin.”

 

Damian snorted, while Tim turned on her with a frown as goose pumps seemed to break out across his back and she had a startling thought.

 

_‘Fuck, now they’re both shirtless.’_

She was starting to think that maybe she should have had a ‘shirts on’ policy.

 

“I’m not _that_ pale,” Tim complained.

 

Slowly being pulled out of her stupor, Rowan dragged one of her nails down his back, raising her eyebrows at him pointedly as a trail of pink followed her nail. The boy was white as a sheet of paper and the lightest touch had him trying to turn red.

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

Damian watched with rapt attention as Rowan teased their boyfriend, completely unaware that she was moving beyond innocent territory.

 

The warm brown of her own skin contrasted immensely with Tim’s alabaster tone as she reached out, and Damian almost wished he could have caught the exact moment Tim’s defenses started to wear down.

 

Usually Damian had to work for it, but Rowan was working him up without even knowing it. From what Damian was experiencing on his end, he had to admit that her not realizing what her actions did to them _did_ have an odd sort of appeal.

 

He figured the moment Tim realized what was actually going on with his own body was about the same time Rowan had finished scratching at Tim’s back, and Damian saw his body shudder and his nipples bead from halfway across the room.

 

_‘Well isn’t this a delightful development?’_

“Feeling cold, Tim?” he taunted.

 

He and Tim had already discussed the fact that Rowan was cagey with her physical affection, but she _did_ like to play with them despite anything else. Sometimes she did things that she was completely oblivious to, other times she pushed at her own boundaries knowing full well the consequences.

 

“Just a little bit,” Tim said after clearing his throat and taking a step forward.

 

The only difference now was that their relationship wasn’t the same as it had once been, and her gentle teasing had more weight for _them_. More often than not, the girl had them both squirming and she didn’t even know it.

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

Rowan had managed to peel off the skin patch at just about the same time she managed to stomp down her awkward thoughts. As it turned out, the patch was much larger then she’d thought and she felt her breath catch as adhesive peeled away, and her eyes were met with a riot of colors.

 

It wasn’t the vivid realness of wet looking paint that had her speechless, however.

 

No, it was what that paint represented.

 

Because she knew the mark was her’s. The simple ‘Hello’ was just lackluster enough to be her’s, but the rest…

 

“You can’t tell me you’re surprised?” Tim inquired after her prolonged silence.

 

She shouldn’t have been, not really. After all, the day they met they’d all been drenched in paint, and it was only fitting that Tim would be stained by it.

 

“It’s pretty…” she muttered.

 

And it was. The letter’s of her single word to him dripped with the same colors she’d used for her wall, the paint looking forever wet, finger prints smearing the lines down his spine.

 

Then, with a start, she realized that if _that_  was what Tim had, then that meant…

 

_‘Oh crap.’_

The bite mark on Damian’s collar bone had to be her’s as well. She didn’t even want to try and examine what _that_ meant. It would just be way too much for one day.

 

Feeling rather light headed, she stepped away from Tim and awkwardly cleared her throat.

 

“Where’s the other one?”

 

To say she wasn’t startled and even slightly annoyed by the shit eating grin on Damian’s face would be a lie.

 

When Tim’s ears turned a bright red, and he proceeded to peel off another batch at the small of his back, she knew exactly why.

 

“ _He tramp stamped you_?”

 

Tim turned around, and the look on his face was more tired than anything else.

 

“Uh, yeah I guess. We kind of match…”

 

Tim was referring to the fact that while his words on Damian had manifested in curling flames, Damian’s words on _him_ looked like delicate metal bars dusted in ice.

 

While it may have seemed to him that she was appalled by the placement, the actual truth was that she was stunned by Damian’s audacity, even if he didn’t truly have any control over the placement.

 

But it was still his fault, and so with her lips pierced, she pulled down her waist band with one hand as she pulled up the bottom of her shirt with the other to reveal the words ‘ _Don’t just stand there like an imbecile, sit down already.’_ carved into her skin.

There was a deathly silence for all of ten seconds before Tim was in a fit of laughter.

 

“God Damian, could you be any more of an asshole?”

 

Considering Tim’s own words consisted of _‘Because you don’t deserve any of this.’,_ she didn’t think so.

 

The boy in question only looked slightly ashamed as he shrugged, eyes never leaving the mark she’d revealed.

 

Now beginning to feel just a little too exposed, she let her shorts snap back into place and her shirt drop.

 

Desperate for _anything_ else to do but look at them, she spied a discarded mask lying on the bed and she decided to flop on the bed just far enough for her hands to reach the object.

 

She fiddled with it, noticing the smoothness of the inside even as she heard Tim go back to his seat, and Damian move closer to her. At this point she knew the difference between their steps, so it wasn’t too hard to picture.

 

By the time she’d discovered the circuitry in the domino mask, she’d calmed down and was actually thinking of tearing the thing apart just to figure out how it worked. She could always have Damian help her put it back together later…

 

Rowan let out an irritated hum when a broad hand grasped her outer thigh before she could lean back up, and she was being dragged the opposite way. Before she knew it, her legs had passed over Damian’s lap and he was twisting her up and forward to pry the mask from her hands.

 

She tried to keep her grip on it, going as far as to raise her body with his pull before she couldn’t stretch anymore, and the thick material was out of her fingers and well away from her reach.

 

“Ass…” she muttered, falling back and making sure her elbow knocked against his chest as she did so.

 

Instead of even bothering to flinch for her benefit, he shot her a cool look and grasped her elbow to rearrange her body forward so that she could no longer look at him.

 

“Maybe if you’d behave, I wouldn’t have to be such an ass,” he grumbled, the sound vibrating through his chest and into her back.

 

Even knowing that it didn’t exactly help combat his words, she still shifted her shoulders back and leaned her head until she was staring at him, upside down and with her tongue sticking out.

 

Tim, however, still had her back.

 

“What’re you? Her Dad?”

 

Damian scowled down at her, which in turn had her smiling. While an irritated Damian was trouble for most, to her it was just amusing. Whatever he decided to do in retaliation she could deal with later.

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

Damian wasn’t necessarily always one for quick action, even if most people only saw that side to him. Sometimes, drawing out his retribution made the outcome all the sweeter. The other person always ended up paranoid, constantly waiting for him to make his next move.

 

Well, almost always. Rowan tended to completely forget she’d even done anything to irk him, and as such, the best route to go with her was usually quick and nearly painless; it was just less trouble for him later.

 

That’s why as she sat in his lap without care for their proximity, a pleased smile on her face for all the wrong reasons, he narrowed his eyes.

 

“Tt. Of course I’m not, nor would I ever want to be. I’m much happier being her boyfriend.”

 

And then to prove his _own_ point, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted as he leaned down to seal his lips to her’s.

 

The angle was all wrong, their teeth knocked, and he knew her back had to be aching from the awkward angle she’d bent to in her attempt to shift, but it said everything he needed it to because when he pulled back, she slid down his chest and her cheeks were blazing red.

 

Now he was the one smirking, she looked completely thrown, and all was right in the world as far as he was concerned.

 

“Damian!” Tim snapped from his side of the room.

 

Even the warning in the older boy’s voice couldn’t shake him, however, and so he turned towards him with an arched eyebrow. His smile widened as he wrapped his arms back around the tense girl in his lap, and he pulled her tight back against his chest.

 

“If you’re jealous I’m sure Rowan wouldn’t mind giving you a kiss too.”

 

He moved a hand up to rest under her chin, and made sure to swipe a thumb over her lips as he stared Tim down. _That_ had the other boy flushing too, and honestly he knew Rowan was probably getting extremely uncomfortable at that point but he was enjoying himself too much to stop.

 

“Stop messing with her Damian, seriously,” Tim protested.

 

Damian, however, thought Tim’s voice sounded weak and his own enjoyment rose with every second.

 

Rowan was still stiff, but she hadn’t moved yet and he took that as her way of saying that she wasn’t quite past her tolerance level yet. Working with what he could, he released her chin and brought his hands down and over.

 

Careful not to get too caught up, he grasped her hip with one hand and rested a hand on her knee with the other. She was mostly across his lap, her lags hanging to the side but the size he had on her allowed him to position without much discomfort.

 

Apparently finally finding her voice, Rowan frowned and glared up at him.

 

“If I fall you’re coming with me…”

 

It was just about then that Damian could, upon a later date, acknowledge that he’d made a mistake.

 

Smirk still easy on his face, he leaned over her and settled his other hand on her untouched leg and brought them both up until he was gripping the lower part of her thighs.

 

“You’re not going to fall.”

 

Damian couldn’t help himself at the point, he really couldn’t. The skin beneath his palms was just so _soft,_ and while Rowan had worn shorts around him, she didn’t tend to reveal _this_ much skin too often. The confusion of earlier was quickly vacating his mind to be replaced with a curiousness tinged dangerously with lust.

 

They didn’t get to spend as much time together as they used to, and rarely were they alone. Even rarer still did they get to spend time with Tim as well, free of any others. He could practically feel Tim’s eyes on his hands as he slowly massaged Rowan’s thighs and _Gods_ , he must have done something right because it really was a treat.

 

All of them in his room, Tim looking entranced, and Rowan in his lap letting him touch her. It was a gorgeous moment, truly, and he just wanted…

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

Rowan was good in a pinch, usually. Her mind was quick and tough situations did nothing but feed the turning wheel. Rarely did she ever face a full shutdown. In fact, the only time she could ever remember experiencing such a thing was when her boys had kissed her. She’d originally thought that it was simply because she’d been so overwhelmed when experiencing her first kisses.

 

As Damian’s hands crept up her thighs, however, she was beginning to realize that it was just _them_ , period.

 

Willing to look anywhere but at Tim, her head fell back against Damian’s chest as his calluses brushed against sensitive skin because she had no idea what she was supposed to be doing in such a delicate situation. Her brain was shorting out because no matter what Damian was really trying to do, the fact remained that his hands where between her legs and she hoped to _god_ he couldn’t feel the heat quickly forming at her center.

 

Her legs had been thrown over the side of his lap, left slightly parted and as he went higher, he was beginning to push them farther apart. She couldn’t watch him, or even question what he was trying to accomplish. No, all she could do was feel the soft kneading and try not to melt into startlingly delicious feeling.

 

Higher and higher his hands rose; too slow and far too fast all at once. Maybe it was the silence in the room, or the fact that she knew both boys were seeing her slow descent into dangerous territory, but couldn’t help the fact that despite everything, she knew when she was getting turned on.

 

Sex in general wasn’t something she spent much time thinking about personally; she’d just never had the chance to really entertain the idea. Between the three of them, things were far too complicated to let hormones guide her decisions.

 

She knew the two of them thought with their dicks enough as it was, so really she tried to be the level headed one. Teasing them about their sexuality was fun, sure, but she left herself alone and kept her thoughts in check.

 

But she was still a teenager. She still felt that ache on some nights, and on even rarer ones she gave in and allowed herself to remember the sight of her soul mates being particularly indecent in order to reach a release that was, unfortunately, not all that satisfying.

 

So yes, she knew what it was like to be turned on, and she knew what it was like rub one out in the middle of the night because she was as gross as every other teenager on earth.

 

She didn’t know what it was like to bring _them_ into that small area of her life, though, because that made it unstable.

 

Sitting in Damian’s lap, his hands on her bare skin as she tried not let the slowly building pulse in her nether regions go to her head made her unstable.

 

“Jesus Christ,” she breathed as she finally lost it and slammed her legs closed, trapping Damian’s hands as she brought her own up to her face.

 

That, sadly, did not have the desired effect. Damian had shifted in the last few seconds, and now his hands were wedged up against her sex and she froze because she knew for a fact that her shorts weren’t that thick and she was pretty sure she could feel his knuckle digging into her core. Her eyes snapped shut and she immediately froze, using every bit of mettle she had not to grind down.

 

She didn’t open her legs in fear of unintentionally rubbing him against her, but she did brace her hand on his bicep and try to shift away as carefully as she could. Deep in her mind, she could hear Damian saying something, but everything besides getting out of her current situation with her sanity intact didn’t really matter.

 

She was forced to come back to reality when Damian took the initiative and did the exact thing she’d been trying to prevent: he pulled his hand away, fingers dragging between her lower lips. She may have had a pair of shorts and her underwear between her bare skin and his fingers, but that didn’t stop the shock of pleasure that shot through her or the soft whine that followed it.

 

Mortified, her eyes popped open only to slam back shut when it turned out that Tim, who’d previously been a good distance away, was pretty much right in her face and had probably _felt_ the noise she’d made as much as he’d heard it.

 

_‘Oh my god I’m gonna die like this.’_

“Rowan?” Tim questioned softly, his voice just a little bit off.

 

She didn’t want to reply, but she figured that at that point, she kind of needed to.

 

“Uh… Yeah…?”

 

Her voice was just a little hoarse, and she’d be damned if she ever acknowledged that. She’d also be damned if Damian and Tim didn’t give her some space before she melted into a puddle of hormones and embarrassment right there.

 

She was pretty sure she was in hell when Tim next spoke.

 

“I uh, I don’t really know how to say this but are you turned on right now?”

 

She opened her mouth to lie her ass of and say ‘no’, and then she _knew_ she was in hell when Damian cut her off.

 

“It felt that way to me.”

 

Ignoring the ache in her body, she tried to get up but it turned out that she really couldn’t get with the program because she was caught off guard by soft lips. _Again._

 

Any chance she had at calming down gracefully was gone.

 

Beneath the fog resting heavy on her mind, Rowan found it in her to be thankful for the fact that Damian had put on a shirt at some point when he flipped her around so that she was straddling him, legs spread over either side of his hips.

 

It made it less embarrassing when she pressed her face against his chest, desperate to hold onto her last thread of sanity as his hand slipped into her shorts.

 

She was able to feel one small shred of fear because _there was so much that could go wrong and fuck what would they think of her later-_ and then thick fingers brushed against her clit and her body pitched forward, her core clenching in anticipation.

 

Damian said something in the next moment, but she was only able to catch the word 'beloved' because her mind was much more focused on the feel of Tim's hands on her rib cage.

 

Even though it was Damian who was trying to command all of her attention, It was Tim's heart she felt beating just as fast as her own against her back. He was bent over and around her, boxing her in with his long limbs.

 

A few seconds passed as the gravity of the situation sunk in, and as Damian failed to move and Tim seemed to be uncertain as to what to do with himself, she was able to gain back her uncertainty.

 

_'This is just from the stress of earlier we shouldn't be doing this it's going to make things so awkward later what am I doing they don't need to see me likes this god what if they don't like it what if-'_

"Rowan? Do you want this?"

 

Damian's voice stopped her downward spiral.

 

"We can stop if this is too much for you, alright?"

 

Tim's voice made the decision for her, because they were willing to hear her opinion on it. Damian had his hand on her pussy and Tim was up her shirt but they were both willing to stop and they were absolute pains but she loved them. She really did.

 

 

"I do... But only if you guys do too..."

 

Damian's quick assurance didn't hit her as hard as the finger sliding through her folds into her slick center did.

 

"I don't think you understand just how bad I want you."

 

Her reply was less of an actual sentence and more of a strangled string of sounds that turned into an all out moan when he began to work his forefinger in and out, twisting as he went.

 

"I don't think you'll ever have to worry about whether or not we went you, Ro," Tim added, punctuating his admission with a gentle kiss on the side of her neck.

She only realized she'd been trying to grind out of Damian's rhythm when he pinned her down with a single hand on her thigh. Tim in turn secured his own grip, pulling her back slightly until she could only keep her head bowed, forehead against Damian's chest. At that point her breasts were actually starting to ache in their confinement, and she reached to pull the thick sports bra forward to try and relieve the pressure.

 

Tim, however, took that as an invitation and slender fingers were slowly slipping into the new space. Her breath caught when managed to actually get the clasp at her back to part, and her heavy bust fell into his palm. She immediately tried to turn back in order to catch Tim's expression and gauge what he was thinking, but Damian was talking into her ear and all she could do was shiver.

 

"I know you're small, but you can take another finger, can't you?"

 

Previous experience said _no_ because just one of Damian's fingers was already two of her own. The choked sound Tim made behind her and the way he squeezed her boob was singing a whole other tune.

 

"Yeaaah..." she breathed out, because fuck it if the very thought had her closer to cumming then she'd ever been by herself how was she supposed to say no?

 

Rowan knew what she’d asked for, because despite her reservations her mind wasn’t pure and she could imagine with the best of them, but reality was far different then fantasy. When she took some private time for herself, she’d only ever gone as far as she needed to in order to get off, and that generally resulted in an easy pace and she’d never really pushed past what she could handle.

 

So with that said, she definitely wasn’t prepared for the sharp stretch when Damian held true to his word, and she was even _less_ prepared for how much she enjoyed it.

 

Her back arched hard and even though Damian was probably waiting for her to adjust, _she_ couldn’t and so she rocked without a second thought. Tim caught on just a moment before Damian did, pulling her farther back to fully grasp her chest, a breasts spilling out of each hand. He peppered kisses on the flushed skin as Damian resumed his strokes.  

 

It was one thing to have the easy comfort of her own fingers but something about the slide of Damian’s thicker one’s had her ache heightening instead of falling into the easy release she was so used it. For every bit of satisfaction, her need ramped hire and she found the plead for _more_ resting on her tongue.

 

Damian’s skin was hot against her own, but she couldn’t find it in her to be uncomfortable with it as she found herself pushing down on him, desperate to snap that tightly wound coil low in her belly. Tim’s hands had stopped their assault on her breasts in favor of simply holding on as he pulled her back, his face rested in the crook of her neck as he whispered to her.

 

“You’re so beautiful, did you know that? You’re gorgeous sitting here like this letting us do this to you…”

 

She wasn’t used to outright praise like that from either of them, it just wasn’t her nature, but she couldn’t deny that she liked it when her walls ceased their fluttering in favor of a long, hard clench on Damian’s fingers.

 

The drag of his fingers at that point could’ve have put her under, she was sure. As it was her throat seemed to close and she was only able to release small, shrill noises.

 

Damian seemed to like it well enough if the way his own mutterings switched from English into an entirely new language was any indication. He was a trooper though, and continued his steady rhythm despite her own increasingly hurried movements.

 

Damian’s free hand was still digging into her thigh, and it was getting to the point where she could feel the pain even through her pleasure, but that only spurred her on because despite it all it was _Damian_ and in that moment she was willing to take whatever he had.

 

She was always trying for them, always willing to go that extra mile to make sure they turned out okay but at that second, she didn’t care what they wanted because her pussy was pulsing around Damian’s fingers and her breasts were heavy in Tim’s hands and she wanted _everything_ and _nothing_ but most of all she just wanted-

 

“Hey, dinner’s ready, is everything okay in there?”

 

Dick’s voice rang clearly through Damian’s door, and Rowan was honestly ready to cry.

 

Suddenly Rowan felt as if she’d been doused in ice water not because her lust had just been stamped out, but because her bra had been yanked back up, clasped closed, and she was suddenly feeling _very_ empty. Damian and Tim were also completely out of her field of vision and she was lying on her side, cool air chilling her overheated skin.

 

She was really only capable of one thought.

 

_‘I think I just got cockblocked by Richard Grayson…’_

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

When they made their way down to dinner, Rowan could tell Tim was still distracted, because as she brought her foot down to another step, he seemed to hardly hear Bruce calling his name.

 

“Hmm?” the blue eyed boy replied, obviously lost in his thoughts.

 

Rowan couldn’t blame him; she was kind of swimming through her own foggy mind at the moment as well. Hell, just being in the same room with Damian and Tim’s father after what they’d just done was taking a toll on her, and she was using all of her brain power not to look the man in the eye and pass out with guilt.

 

“Why exactly are Rowan’s thighs covered in bruises?” Bruce’s voice rang out; half tinged with amusement but mostly dominated by purely parental accusation.

 

Suffice to say, she missed that next step and fell straight down the stairs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (:
> 
> THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE HOLY FRICK I WROTE THIS INSTEAD OF DOING THE MOUNTAIN OF HOMEWORK I HAVE AHAHAHAHIIHFWIOGHOH3IGH4IOHG3. Like frick man this took so long I’ve been working on it for a month. I literally spent an entire evening on it and jfc I still didn’t get it how I envisioned it perfectly but ya know, it’s whatever… I have no idea when I’m gonna be updating after this because I don’t have the next chapter started but you know what… Enjoy lmfao. 
> 
> Remember guys, I love hearing about what yall think! Tell me how you feel, or anything else. I love hearing about it 
> 
> There are typos in here I think but I don’t want to wait another day to update and in light of some recent things I don’t feel like doing anything else for tonight.


	42. Hiatus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of Suicide

I’m going to start this off by saying that this is not a good bye note. This story is not done, and I am not going anywhere. I promised myself that I wouldn’t do any more author’s notes like this, but as of right now I do not know when I will be updating again because I just have so much going on right now, and I am lucky enough to have readers who enjoy my work. I know what it’s like to be waiting for a new chapter and have it take forever, so I felt like I owed you guys a reason.

And at the end of the day, this story is sort of my way of showing people that what they experience is normal, even if I’m not always good at doing so, and that there is no shame in living your life, even if it is not what we see as the ‘norm’, which is why I’ve decided to share my experiences. It doesn’t matter if you can’t identify, all that matters is that there’s someone out there who may one day need this.

Lately, I’ve had a lot going on. My school year has been the hardest I’ve ever faced, and it only seems to come down heavier and heavier on me. Hopefully next year will be different, but as of right now it’s taking everything I’ve got. But with that said, if that was all I would have been fine. Last semester was hard and I still managed to write, and yes this semester is harder, but this is something I enjoy.

The thing is, three months ago I met two people online. One is a girl, and one is a boy, and to make things short, we three developed a relationship that is one of the most intense things I’ve ever experienced to date. Don’t ask me why, don’t ask me how, because I can not explain even to myself. But these two people have become my best friends. In three months, we connected in a way that’s indescribable. In three months, I fell for the boy, which is something that angered me because life is not a story. Drama does not go down this way, and it does not happen to me.

Except it does. Because he broke my heart without ever meaning to. He and the girl are dating now, and I support it as much as I struggle with it every day because I love them both, and they love me, and I can’t change that. I can’t change the way they tear me apart and build me back up. I cant change the fact that I can’t quite them.

All I can do is love them, and let them be together as we all try to keep each other afloat.

And I know it sounds melodramatic, I know it sounds fake and cliché and I know I should get over it. But I am learning the truth in stories and it fucking hurts, which is why I’ve been having trouble even thinking about progressing the relationship and story between Rowan, Tim, and Damian.

But I was going to try. For you guys, for me, for them. I was going to try to do what I loved, because I was dealing with my emotions as best as I could, because that’s what I’m good at. My life has been… Difficult. But I deal with it. I’m a little bitter, and a little petty, but I work through what I need to because if I don’t, I have nothing else. That’s how I have always been, and I was coping.

But here’s where it gets extremely hard, and I do not want any pity for this. I simply want to let you all know that these things are real, and they affect real life people. They are not just things that happen to everyone else, and it’s okay to feel this pain.

On February 20th, my cousin committed suicide.

When I love, it is with all of my heart and she was, and forever will be, a piece of my heart. And there’s nothing that we could have done, because no matter what anyone tells you, there will NOT always be a solution to everyone’s issues. The world is not so fair.

We can look, and we can always support, but sometimes, there are problems that can not be fixed. This does not mean we do not try, this does not mean we give up even if it can not be fixed. It simply means that when you have the chance, I want you all to let yourself live. Do not limit yourself because you are scared of the consequences.

Because the death of my cousin, this girl who I grew up with and who meant so much to me, that broke me.

Because I have so much on my shoulders, and I was not expecting this, and I do not think she was either.

Some things can not be expected.

And this is not her fault. This is not my fault. This is not anyone’s fault but that of the demon’s that haunted her, and if this is her peace then so be it.

It does not make it okay, and it does not keep me heart from aching, but it makes it real.

So excuse me if you do not get what I am trying to say, and excuse me if you hate me for this because this is not what you came here to read.

But I will not say sorry.

Because life is real, and it goes on no matter how much we hurt. It goes on, and it will beat you down

But it will also pick you up.

Without the two people who I met and love so much, I do not think I would be where I am right now. I do not think I would be anywhere but in an endless storm of misery.

So this is to the ones struggling in school, not quite sure if they’re good enough, but not willing to give up. Your effort is not in vain, and you will make it through. You will get something out of your sacrifice.

This is to all the people who were looked down upon for letting their hearts get broken in ‘frivolous’ ways. We can not always explain why we do the things we do, even to ourselves. We do not always have the answers, and we are valid in our love and our heart ache. Do not be afraid to let yourself feel.

This is to all those who embraced death with open arms, inviting him to their doorsteps all by themselves. You will not be damned for your choices. It is not on this world to decide whether or not you made the right ones. Yes, those you left behind will hurt and wail and they may never forgive you, but they also may never blame you. They will certainly never forget you. Your life will ALWAYS be worth something, because your prescience is the only reason you need to exist. Life is a gamble, and you made yours. This does not make you any less of a person. This does not make you any less loved, because too many people focus on giving the victim so many reasons not to die, and nobody wants to give them any reasons to live.

This is to the ones left behind. It is not your fault. It will never be your fault. If there was something to be done, you would have done it. Do not push your pain away, because even if it hurts, it is okay to feel everything you feel. Just remember not to let your agony, or your anger guide you.

This is to the boy and the girl that climbed their way into my heart, and locked the door so there is no escaping. I know you’re sorry for hurting me, and I am sorry for hurting you, but our trust is our strength.

This is to my cousin, who could not find solace in this world. You were, and always will be the brightness I saw in you, and nothing less. My tears for you are not only of sorrow for the presence that I will always miss, but the joy for the moments that you gave me. I love you tol one, and your smol one will see you in a few decades and we’ll have all types of stories to share. I can’t wait for two years to go by especially, because I know you’ll be beside me when I walk onto that stage for my degree. That one is, after all, for you my love. We would have been able to graduate together, but I will settle for simply having you hold my hand through this one.

This is for anyone to take comfort in, because you are not alone.

I don’t want reviews for this, please. Reviews are for comments on my work, so if you have something to say, I don’t want it there. I’m not doing this for my review count.

I love you all, and I can not say I will be back soon, but I can promise that I will be back. My PM box is open to any and all who would like to talk, though I can not promise a swift response, I can always promise a genuine one.

In the words of Rebecca Sugar, but in the lovely voice of my cousin as one of the last songs she ever sung to me:

_[Ruby] I'm so sorry_

_[Sapphire] No, no, don't be_  
[Ruby] And now you're here forever!  
[Sapphire] What about you?  
[Ruby] What about me?

_[Sapphire] Well you're here too  
We're here together._

 

We’ll always be here together, tol one. Always.


	43. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it’s been a while, guys. Hot damn. I wish this chapter was more exciting, but idk it’s something??  
> I wanted to say thank you to everyone for all of your support, yall are amazing. I have so much more to say, but as always when I’m writing these notes, my words seem to fail me. So simply thank you. I’m doing better now, and I think that’s what counts, yeah?

Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson wasn’t a hard man. Sure he could be tough when he needed to be, but who wasn’t in his line of work? But unlike some heroes he knew, he didn’t constantly wear the weight of everything he’d done and would do on his shoulders. Rather, he sectioned those things off so that they wouldn’t consume him, and maintained a careful balance between the hard ass leader mode he sometimes adopted while as Nightwing, and the easy going ladies man that was Dick Grayson.

It was a difficult thing to do, some days, as Nightwing and Dick where really just the same person, but he made it work. He simply combined the two parts of himself until he was satisfied with the outcome, and went on one day at a time.

At the moment, though, as he hunted down his two youngest brothers for what was sure to be a very awkward talk, his balance was really starting to tip. He was becoming less organized leader and more worried older brother. He’d been noticing certain things lately, and he’d given both Tim and Damian more than enough time to come to him, but they hadn’t and so it was time for him to call them out.

There was only so many times he could handle catching them checking each other out before he couldn’t stand it anymore… And then there was _Rowan._ He would have asked about her years ago if he wasn’t afraid of her getting scared off or driven away.

As it was, he was pretty sure her stumbling down the stairs of his home with bruises on her inner thighs either meant she was already long gone, or there for an extended stay. Damian had given the excuse that they had been rough housing, which was believable all things considered and the girl always did seem to get a little banged up. Her tumble down the stairs was only testament to her clumsiness, but _he_ knew better.

“Clumsy, my ass…” he muttered.

Those had been hand prints bruised into her thighs, and the way both Tim and Damian had been watching her had told him everything that they’d never said. He knew, without a doubt, that if he hadn’t knocked on Damian’s door, there would have been a very angry Miranda Chase tearing through the manor within the day.

If that wasn’t enough to merit a long overdue sex talk, then the fact that he had caught Damian and Tim sleeping in the same room every day after that was a big neon sign. He’d always known that there was something up with the two… And they always had been vehement about not being _brothers._

As he fingered a sealed condom packet in his pocket, the stray thought that either Damian or Tim probably already _had_ condoms crossed his mind, and he blanched. There was just no _way._

But then again, he knew Damian and so he knew there were all types of _ways_ , and he began to walk faster. He knew Damian, at least, would be coming off of patrol within the next few minutes and he was determined to make sure that at the very least, Damian knew he knew something was up. And if that took some embarrassing talk about contraception? Well that was just going to have to happen. Besides, it would serve as a nice way to build up for the more _in depth_ conversation that needed to be had.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Damian knew he was a smart young man; that was just a given. His intelligence was apparent in everything he did, and he prided himself on that. Every move he made was confident, and he made no apologies for his actions….

 _….Most_ of the time.

It took a lot for him to admit he was in the wrong, and he liked to think that was because he was rarely ever actually truly incorrect with either his words or his actions. Because of this, however, when Dick found him after he was done with patrol and made a point of trailing him back to his room it took Damian a _lot_ of carefully maintained control and a fair amount of maturity to actually admit that the man had a point in his desire for a conversation.

It was just too bad that he wasn’t able to do this until after Tim was standing in his doorway looking extremely uncomfortable as Dick held up a condom.

“Do I even want to know what’s going on?” Tim asked, looking as ready to get out of there as Damian felt.

Dick said ‘yes’ at the exact time Damian replied with a vehement ‘no’ and the younger male found himself scowling.

His face hardened about the same time Tim’s did, though, because suddenly Dick wasn’t smiling quite so brightly as he stood a little straighter, arms crossed over his chest. As Dick looked them both over, all traces of the previously light hearted ‘sexual safety’ talk that had been semi jokingly given not moments before gone, Damian realized that all the leeway he and Tim had been given had just ran out.

“When where you two going to tell me? Or anyone for that matter?” Dick questioned.

For reasons he couldn’t quite grasp, Damian felt averse to being so open about his relationships with anyone, and after everything he knew that what had been going on between him, Tim, and Rowan was what Dick was after.

Tim, though, apparently had no such inclinations to continue keeping their affairs private.

“Don’t look at us like that, Dick. I figured you would have already realized what was going on and we had some… things… to work out. Some things that still need to be worked out. Just lay off, okay?”

Damian stood stalk still as Dick turned and locked his gaze onto Tim. This really wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have.

“You want me to _lay off_? I’ve been laying off for months- hell probably even years. You think I don’t notice when you two don’t come home until well after sunrise when you’re supposed to be on days off? You think I don’t notice how you’re in his room every night? You think I don’t notice how many times you’ve pulled out someone else’s glasses, or beanie, or jacket? You forget I’ve seen Rowan, and I can tell when you have her stuff. I can also tell when you two have been arguing or lately, doing more than that.”

Tim sucked in a sharp breath, and Damian’s jaw locked.

“How is any of that your business?” he grit out.

In all truth, it wasn’t that he hadn’t expected anyone to notice. Everyone in his home _noticed_ things for a living, and he was no fool. He hadn’t been especially careful with his going ons simply because he knew his family would assume everything but the obvious for as long as it took to figure out the truth, but now that was catching up with him.

On hindsight though, he knew the glasses had to have been a dead giveaway. No one but his Father and Alfred ever wore glasses, and even then they were only for reading and not in the same style as Rowans. It wasn’t his fault though, because she was constantly losing them and over the years he’d found that if he kept an extra pair on him in her prescription he wouldn’t have to deal with her squinting her way through life like an idiot.

Still, that wouldn’t exactly cover some of the other pressing matters, and Dick knew that just as well as he did.

“It’s my business because like it or not, I’m the adult here. It’s my job to look after your well being Damian. Just because I’m your big brother doesn’t mean I can just let these things go.”

Ache quickly setting in his clenched facial muscles, Damian tried to keep his dissatisfaction down.

“It’s your _job?_ Last time I checked, you weren’t my father. It’s not your obligation to bother me about these things.”

Dick seemed to concede at this, but only slightly.

“It may not be something I _have_ to do, but it’s something I’m going to do because I care. Why are you being so difficult about this anyways? What’re you trying to hide?”

That wouldn’t have stung half as much if Tim hadn’t seen fit to add to it.

“You know… I have the same question sometimes, Damian.”

“Really? You’re one to talk, Drake. You haven’t exactly been forthcoming either,” he snapped back.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Tim was 100% sure that if Dick hadn’t pulled him into the room, shut Damian’s door, and stood directly between them, he and Damian would have fought then and there. There would have been bruises and blood and possibly a few broken things.

The real kicker was that he wasn’t even grateful for Dick’s intervention.

The entire family had been breathing down their necks for the past few months, and while Damian hadn’t noticed, Tim _had._ He was sick of watching them watch him, he was sick of constantly miss stepping with Rowan, he was sick of Damian’s attitude, and most of all, he was sick of being so pent up with no actual outlet.

Gotham had never ending waves of crime, sure, but it wasn’t the same as it was when he was in San Francisco with his team. Patrols in Gotham just didn’t push him in the same way as the ones there did, and it was a different type of challenge he had to deal with while at home then what was presented with the Titans. Sure the young heroes he worked with where complicated but everything in Gotham was near _impossible._

And he could admit it; he was nearly 19 and the sheer amount of sexual frustration he felt was really wearing him down. He didn’t feel like it was right to have sex with Damian quite yet, Rowan was off limits, and even just trying simple kisses with either of them got out of control way too fast.

Trying _anything_ with either of them got out of control way too fast.

Their current situation with Rowan was testament to that.

Even worse was the fact that he didn’t really have too many people he could talk to about it because yeah, it was a little embarrassing, and yeah it wasn’t exactly all his business to share.

Dick, though, was making it increasingly difficult to keep things to himself

(And maybe the fact that he was running on 30 minutes of sleep didn’t help.)

And so, feeling extremely tired of everything, Tim decided that it was time to finally just lay everything out… And take whatever came his way.

“You want to lecture me on how forthcoming I’ve been? Fine. Fine then. If there’s such an issue how about this;” turning to face Dick, Tim took in a heavy breath and,” Damian and I are Soul Mates, but you knew that didn’t you? Rowan’s our third, and I can’t tell you how any of this works but you know what? It does. We all have so many issues and both of us keep messing up with her and each other and I have no idea what any of us are doing. None of us are actually having sex with, but man we still manage to mess up on that front too. I know both of them are younger than me, and I respect that, but if I’m honest Damian and I are probably so close to taking that jump and I cannot stop looking at Rowan for the life of me and most of the time I feel like a lecher because she’s 15? But she could honestly crush my skull between her thighs and I’d die happy. And I have no idea how to deal with any of that, and it shows I guess.”

As Tim finished, his last words left them all standing in a rather awkward silence.

Seconds ticked by and as the weight of what he’d said came down; Tim watched both Dick and Damian carefully.

Yes he was embarrassed, but it needed to be said and he already knew it could either help or hurt their current situation. Damian would either remain silent, or rage, while Dick would probably question…

“…But you are all being safe right?”

And question he did.

Distantly Tim thought he heard Damian let out a strangled groan, but at this point he was very nearly dead on his feet and more than 100% drained so he didn’t really care what kind of crisis his admission had put his grumpy Soul Mate through.

“Dick honestly I just told you we’re not even doing anything,” Tim finally said.

There was most definitely not any disappointment in his tone. Nope, none at all.

It took him a moment to realize that the look Dick was giving him wasn’t because he’d heard the (definitely not there) longing in his voice, but because he’d seen right through that small fib.

“Okay so you’re telling me I shouldn’t have a reason to be worried even with all those pictures Damian’s got?”

If Tim had been a man with any less discipline, he probably would have broken down into a sweaty mess with all the nerves that suddenly decided to show their displeasure. As it was, a hot blush spread from his chest all the way to his ears, because he was quite sure he knew what kind of _pictures_ Dick was referring to.

He just hoped to god he was wrong.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Dick really, really loved his brothers. They were utter pains, hard to keep watch over and all stubborn as hell, but he loved them. As such, he tried his best to do what he could to support them, but sometimes…

Sometimes they made it really, really hard.

At the moment, Damian was making it nearly impossible for him to help him out of the mess he’d made, because honestly the least the boy could do was own up to his transgressions.

But of course, it was Damian, so instead he ignored the fact that they even were transgressions, and tried his best to stare him down. Too bad for him, though, because Dick was long used to Damian’s death glares.

“Have you been searching through my things?” Damian asked, barely hidden acid behind his words.

Even if he did still look ready to strangle him, Dick knew the fact that Damian wasn’t throwing punches yet meant that his brother did, in fact, love him.

With that in mind, he forged ahead.

“That depends. Have you been taking pictures of underage girls while they sleep?”

The startled look on Tim’s face told him that he, at least, wasn’t a lost cause. So far he’d been the easiest of the two of them to talk to, and that wasn’t saying much considering he knew the only reason Tim was even saying anything was because he was as tired of the lack of communication as Dick was.

“I have no idea what you’re referring too, and quite frankly I’m offended by your insinuations,” Damian intoned haughtily.

Dick could just tell Damian was thinking of how to up the security on his hard drives, and he hoped that this conversation was worth it because trying to get in the first time had already been a trial.

“Okay fine,” he started, deciding on a different approach, “let’s just say you do actually don’t know what I’m talking about. Let’s just say that theoretically, I found over a hundred photos, over twenty paintings, and multiple sketch books full of pictures of Tim and Rowan. Let’s say that _theoretically,_ that’s a really big sign of either a disturbing obsession, or the relationship that Tim already mentioned. _Theoretically,_ what would you say to that?”

Damian’s glare lessoned as Tim pinned him with an intense look of surprise, and Dick was honestly getting a headache.

“Theoretically…” Damian finally said,” if everything you said was true, then it would be in your best interests to stop looking through my belongings.”

Dick would have told Damian that he had no intention of doing so considering some of the things he’d seen that he really would have liked to unsee, but Damian actually continued talking and he wasn’t ready to shut him up when it had been so hard to get him started in the first place.

“…and you shouldn’t be so condescending when talking about art. Because theoretically, someone may or may not think Tim and Rowan are  gorgeous and gorgeous things should be documented and shared for future generations to ponder over. Would you have berated Da Vinci for painting the Mona Lisa? No.”

Dick probably could have thought that over, and come up with an appropriate response, but that would have been another headache and as it was he was in dire need of a drink.

Deciding to finally get to the point, Dick just let it all go.

“Okay so anyways are you all okay or not because let’s be honest watching you three is mildly concerning for literally everyone.”

It was a testament to their shared surroundings, upbringings, and a slew of  other things that it looked like his brothers had reached their stopping point at about the same time he had.

“…you really just want to help?” Tim asked.

Dick sighed, and wondered just what he’d done so wrong to earn such distrust. Or maybe it was just that his family was comprised of a bunch of paranoid, overworked insomniacs.

He was thinking that it was the latter.

“Of course I want to help; I do actually care about you two. You’re my brothers, and I hope you know you can trust me with anything.”

He watched as Damian and Tim looked at each other, and almost seemed to have a conversation in which no words were exchanged. For a second, he thought he was in for another round of bullshit. But then turned to him and they looked as young and inexperienced as he remembered feeling at their age.

“Have you ever been with a virgin?” Damian asked, voice deceptively soft.

It was a strong question, with some obviously strong roots and Dick was more than a little thrown, but he knew he couldn’t back down. Damian was testing the waters.

“I have actually, but what are you trying to find out.”

Tim answered back this time.

“Just hear us out because it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

He stopped for a moment to consider something, and looked towards Damian as if to question the validity of his own statement before continuing.

“You know how I said we’ve been messing up? Well usually we just sort of deal with it. I can’t necessarily explain it, but we always just end up going back to something manageable but uh, this time I can see that we may have a reoccurring issue.”

“And that issue involves the fact that Rowan’s a virgin? And what, neither of you are?”

Tim had the grace to look away and go red , but Damian just looked at him with a raised eyebrow so Dick decided not to pursue that one.

“The main issue is that we may or may not have scared her and neither of us are very sure how to fix it,” Damian said plainly.

For as little emotion as he showed through his words, Dick still knew Damian was worried. Even if he wasn’t, Dick was kind of worried enough for the both of them because they were edging on some sensitive territory.

“What exactly do you mean by ‘scared her’?”

Tim blushed harder, but Damian still tried his best to stare him down and oddly enough, Dick was actually starting to think he was more uncomfortable then Damian was.

“We were kissing and things went too far, and I suppose because she wasn’t used to it she became uncomfortable when we were interrupted.”

“That’s it?” Dick asked, trying his best not to picture the poor girl in question.

“That’s it,” Tim grumbled in reply.

Dick was almost sure that there was more to it than that, but he was hoping that his brothers would be able to tell him whatever it was they needed to say at their own pace.

“It just sounds like you two need to slow things down. And you weren’t planning to have sex, I assume? You should know that even if you’re not it’s good to have condoms on hand.”

Tim rubbed a the back of his neck and nodded, but Damian let out an unimpressed snort.

“Are you planning on saying anything I don’t already know?”

Dick probably could have come up with a good reply, and he could have sat there and argued with Damian for hours, but he wasn’t in the mood. Apparently neither of them had been in need of anything beyond knowing they could trust him, and he wasn’t about to sit there and find out just how ‘well informed’ his youngest brother was.

It was just too much for one night, and if he didn’t get a sip of something strong soon he was probably going to explode, so he did the best thing and decided to leave.

“I guess not, Damian. I’m going out for a while but you know if you need me…”

When Tim looked up, Dick felt his headache was worth the it as long as the slight look of relief stayed in Tim’s eyes.

“Thanks, Dick,” Tim said sincerely.

Dick just smiled in return, and shook his head.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Damian watched as Dick finally, _finally_ took his leave. Still, Dick had said he could trust him with everything, and he really needed to know…

“Hey!” he called,” what do you suggest we do about our current predicament?”

When Dick stopped and turned, Damian was sure he could see the tiredness on his oldest brother’s face, and he _almost_ felt bad.

“Just do what you guys always do. Talk to each other, and for the love of god, keep your hands to yourself. She obviously doesn’t have the same ideas about sex that you two do.”

And with that, Dick was off to, ironically enough; probably find some lucky lady to spend the night with.

Damian did take his words to heart, though, and checked his watch. Rowan would be out of school soon, and they really hadn’t been on a walk in quite a while….

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Patterns, she knew, were things that could be found laced throughout life. Days were never the same, and time passed, but certain things repeat like clockwork no matter the change of the circumstance.

Oddly enough, the next conversation she had with Tim brought this to the forefront of her mind.

He texted her four days after probably one of the most startling situations she’d ever found herself in, and still even with those four days in between, her heart thumped with fear and elation all rolled into one.

It’s heady and all consuming and her mind rushes with everything her boys make her feel and that, above all else, is what she finds terrifying.

It’s not just the strength and combination of these feelings that make her wary, however. No, it’s so much more because while she cannot bring her mind to grip everything she has going on, the small part of her that is always aware grasps on to one little fact: it is in times like these, when she is lost in herself with no escape that the world around her seems to go straight to hell as well.

And so when she left Wayne Manor, mouth sealed shut with nerves and heart hammering with embarrassment and the remnants of cravings still unsatisfied, she was scared. She was scared of the fact that she’d let her boys cross a line she’d hardly ever looked at. She was scared that she’d somehow changed the very way they viewed her. She was scared at the strength of her reactions, and she was scared that she could not understand them; that she could not understand herself.

She was scared that now that everything she’d worked so hard to build was so fragile, something was going to happen and spin her carefully balanced life completely out of control.

She was scared because that was exactly what had happened when she, Damian, and Tim had been wedged apart by time, distance, experiences, and the very words that branded them together.

Everything in her life seemed to happen slowly and then all at once and she could see this pattern clearly.

And while she sat alone under a tree during her one hour lunch break from a routine day of school, this is what her mind was drawn to when Tim texted her a simple ‘hey’.

Logic said that she probably should have called him, maybe even arranged a meeting. She should have tried to talk about what they’d done, because talking it out was the smart thing to do.

But scared little girls who held more fear then sense didn’t always do the smart thing.

Scared little girls went home after letting their boyfriends put their hands all over them and stared in the mirror for hours, finding every imperfection and imagining every horrible thing anyone could think because that’s the way the world worked, didn’t it? Everything would be fine until they realized she was more fat then muscle and more stretch marks and cellulite then smooth skin. She was more lazy then brilliant and more inexperience then what they had. She was more weakness then strength and at the end of the day, she was just a scared little girl who’s heart told her one thing when her mind was saying another.

So when her boyfriend texted her ‘hey’ while she was on her lunch  break at school, her mind said she wasn’t ready for everything her boys had to offer and she sent a simple ‘hey’ back.  Maybe things would have been easier had she had to see Damian every day, but the boy only came when he felt like it because no school board had enough gal to contest him, and she didn’t blame them. As it was, everything was coming faster then she could keep up with, and she was beginning to fear the pattern she saw in the making.

His reply was instantaneous, and suddenly her lunch wasn’t so appetizing because her stomach was churning far too fast to be healthy.

‘How are you?’

Three simple words really, but the feelings they inspired spiraled so far out of her control she could hardly figure out where to begin an answer for his question.

Was she okay? No, no she wasn’t. She was anxious about what they thought of her, and every time she felt any type of indicative feeling that she may be getting turned on, she got slammed with a thick wall of fear.

So of course, that wasn’t what she told him.

‘I’m ok’

It was true enough. As far as she was concerned, she wasn’t dying and that was enough to be ‘okay’.

‘Ok enough 2 go out later?’

Her breath caught in her throat and she hated the way it did so, knowing that if either of the boys found out they’d be hurt. She’d never felt this way before, especially in regards to them. She’d never feared them or found herself not wanting to take time to spend in their presence, and she _hated_ it more then she was afraid of what could happen, so she forced herself to push past it.

‘yah’

The dull ache beginning to rise in her sternum signaled more than just the coming of her roiling emotions, and she fought it push it down before she could get lost in her own head. Everything would be okay, just so long as she didn’t make things worse.

‘nice… damian was talking about going for a walk later, you want me to see if he could swing by the school?’

 _‘IgnoreItIgnoreItIgnoreItIgnoreIt’_ sped through her mind, and with every passing second it became easier to convince herself. Rowan wasn’t exactly an overly emotional person; she couldn’t really afford to be. It just seemed that this time, it was taking her longer to sink back into her place of calm. She was slowly but steadily reaching, there, though.

‘Yah but if one more person asks how I kno him im gona lock him out of the school myself’

She could imagine the smile on Tim’s face easily, and so she focused on that as she read his reply.

‘Wow vicious much’

A small grin fell across her lips.

‘boi u aint seen vicious yet’

He sent her a picture of Jan Brady from the Brady bunch with the caption ‘Sure, Jan’ and just like that, they’d fallen back into their easy, familiar patterns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So everything is terrible because I’m trash and I was writing this in my Social Psyche class, and you know what happened? The teacher came up behind me, breathed on my neck and was like ‘So are these notes for this class?’  
> I slammed my laptop shut so fast, and let me tell you I wanted to die right then and there.   
> But anyways im tired and I hope to have some fun stuff in the future.  
> Anyways, I managed to delete my tumblr, and so I had to recreate it. Feel free to follow me ;-;. My username is still thepeppermama.  
> Now keep in mind when I started this, I didn’t even expect 100 reviews, let alone nearing 200 like god damn I am so amazed. On top of that, in NO WAY did I expect FAN ART!!! IM SO FREAKING EXCITED AND IN LOVE AND AMAZED AND HONORED HOLY CRAP!!!!! THE LOVELY SHERLMERL ON TUMBLR DREW MY BABIE S AND I CRIED OMG I LOVE THME SO FUCKING MUCH.


	44. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I’m going to plan out these chapters this story will be done in 10 this story line is shoddy let’s put in a solid one and finish up  
> Also Me: bitch you fucking thought we’re gonna drag this bitch out fuck off  
> Me: aight lets write some fluff let’s go
> 
> Okay so I’ve been going through finals lately which is why I haven’t updated in a minute. I’ve still got some more, but it’s nowhere near what it was and I get out of school in about two weeks. I’m planning on taking another class over the summer and possibly getting a job, but I’ll still have more time to write and on that note writing porn is fucking hard. Writing gay porn is even harder. 
> 
> Im crying and this is so mcfreaking difficult omfg
> 
> Anyways enjoy lol
> 
> Warning: Situations of A Sexual Nature, M/M interactions, mild pain play
> 
> If u don’t want my shitty attempts of sexy scenes then read through the first section, and skip until the fourthish page break lol :p. 
> 
> This is long as hell and damn near 8,000 words, so enjoy. Also fair warning I don’t do any type of sports ever and I don’t watch anything so I have no idea how actual sports work .-.

The first opportunity Rowan presents them with to all spend time together wasn’t actually something that would allow them to _spend time together_ , but he couldn’t really complain. She’d texted him with the timid inquiry of whether or not he wanted to go see her play a charity baseball game for her youth center, and he couldn’t exactly say no because, he’d never actually had a chance to see her play, and he could make the time to do so, he knew Damian would go, even if he did complain. It wouldn’t hurt to spend some time out with his boyfriend, especially if it was to watch his girlfriend, and, perhaps most importantly, it would probably be the easiest way to introduce Rowan officially to their family… And introduce their entire relationship.

 

Plus, she had asked him to bring some people if he could. Every ticket contributed to the money being split between all of Gotham’s youth centers. Rowan was playing for Ivy Park Youth Center, and there were five other centers playing in the tournament.

 

Rowan had made it easy for he and Damian to tell their family the entirety of their situation, even if she didn’t know it. They’d all be in the same place, and the public setting was perfect because he knew none of his family members would have the chance to make too much of a scene. (Not that he honestly thought that they would.)

 

All in all, she’d presented them with the perfect opportunity….

 

Well, she almost had. There was just one problem.

 

“I’m not asking them,” Damian voiced before Tim could even finish his thoughts.

 

They were currently in Damian’s room, as Rowan had texted them both at once and he’d come to see what Damian thought of the situation.

 

When he thought about it, asking the family to go to Rowan’s game with them wouldn’t even be that hard. Just tell them what was going on, they’d come, and that would be the end of it. He could do it no problem.

 

But then, it would be so much better if _Damian_ was the one to tell them. Damian, at least, could do it without having to deal with all the extra questioning. It would be done and over in less than a few seconds. If Tim were to do it, he knew there would be an impromptu interrogation and after the whole thing with Dick, he really wasn’t in the mood to explain himself _again._

 

“Come on Damian, why can’t you just do this one thing?”

 

The younger boy hardly bothered to look up from the book he was idly sketching in. Tim had once tried to look over his shoulder while he drew, but he’d been treated to a fist for the stomach for his interest.

 

“Why can’t you?”

 

Tim could already feel the headache forming.

 

“Well for one, it’d just be easier all around if you did it. They won’t ask as many questions and I won’t have to sit through a god damn grilling session about why we didn’t tell them sooner.”

 

The sound of Damian’s pencil scratching against his paper was almost loud, but it was steady and that’s how Tim knew that Damian was toying with him through his next words.

 

“Why choose the easy path, though?”

 

Tim wouldn’t let Damian rile him up; not right then. He still had to go on a video call with his team to discuss some future missions, and he didn’t need to be irritated when he did it. When dealing with so many people, it paid to be level headed and _usually_ he was good at that.

 

“Less stress, Damian. Less stress.”

 

Green eyes finally left paper as Damian evidentially finished up his sketch, and when his lidded gaze settled on Tim, there was more heat there then was strictly necessary.

 

“Where’s the fun in that?”

 

There was a quick, burning wave of anger that swept through him before it was iced abruptly by the realization that as always, there was more to Damian’s words. He’d long outgrown being difficult because he didn’t know better. Now he knew, and he just didn’t care.

 

“You know what?” Tim asked softly, walking towards Damian and leaning down, palms on the armrests of his chair until they were face to face.

 

Green eyes narrowed at him, and the small smirk falling across full lips was insolent as it was sincere.

 

“What?”

 

Tim didn’t let it show often because generally he was a people pleaser to a fault and he knew it, but he _could_ be insolent too.

 

“You’re going to be the one to ask them to come, and you’re going to be the one to tell them about us.”

 

Damian didn’t get angry, nor did he laugh or call Tim anything vile. His reply though, was purely Damian.

 

“Oh, and what? You’re going to make me?”

 

It was really, really wrong, but Tim could feel his blood thrumming through his veins in a way he wasn’t sure if he should allow.

 

“Well you’re not going to make _me_ tell them.”

 

Damian leaned in just a few more inches, and Tim could nearly taste his breath.

 

“Aren’t I?”

 

At times Tim had trouble understanding why the words at the small of his back were dusted over in ice because really, sometimes all Damian had to do was say a few words to make him _burn._

“Why are you so difficult?”

 

Damian’s answer was to stand up, pushing Tim back as he did so all the while leaning in to seal their lips. Perhaps the softest part of him; Damian’s lips tasted like power and sin and the promise that no one could ever keep him down.

 

Tim felt like that was a challenge, and for once, he was willing to answer it.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

When Tim kissed him back with just as much intensity as he was giving, Damian knew he was in for an interesting time. Tim rarely indulged him, but he wasn’t about to analyze what made the older boy so willing to give in now.

 

Instead, he used the quickly intensifying situation and it’s fast pace to spin Tim around and push him forward and over his desk all in one movement. Almost immediately, Tim threw an elbow back and caught Damian directly in the chest, but Damian didn’t let it faze him. He took the hit but didn’t give up his position, and managed to fist a handful of Tim’s hair and force his head down into the desk.

 

“Are you planning to win like this, Drake?” he asked, not quite ready to address his quickly hardening member just yet. 

 

“I don’t know, _Al Ghul_ , are you?”

 

Now normally, Damian probably would have taken that the wrong way. Few knew him by that name, and even fewer dared to say it, but neither of them had ever called each other Wayne unless it was necessary. It was a shared name, yes, but Tim didn’t call him by his last name often to begin with.

 

That, and Tim punctuated his questioned with an obvious shift of his hips that brought his ass _right_ up against Damian’s crotch.

 

His breath caught, but he was still in control well enough to keep his breath steady.

 

“That’s playing dirty.”

 

Tim did it again, and Damian found himself gripping his silky hair tighter. What some people failed to realize is that while Tim wasn’t the flashiest of the Wayne sons, he could definitely be the boldest if given the chance.

 

“Is it? I had no idea,” Tim said, voice muffled by his face down postion.

 

Damian found that he liked the sound.

 

“Well since you had no idea, I think it’s my job to help you learn.”

 

Sadly, Damian had to let Tim’s hair go and allow him to shift up in order to follow through with a particularly fun idea that involved getting Tim’s shirt off of him.

 

Tim apparently thought it was a good idea too.

 

“If mine goes, yours goes,” the older boy warned even as he shrugged out of the rumpled button up he’d had on, working off his pants as he went.

 

Damian didn’t give Tim a chance to turn around, as by the time his shirt was off Damian had his own off as well as his pants, and made sure Tim knew it as he pressed his chest to the paler boy’s back. He was finding that he enjoyed his newfound size more and more every day; even if it did sometimes interfere with the training he’d had when he was smaller. While he couldn’t fit in the same spaces as he did before, his widening chest and superior height were good for some things.

 

Those things evidently included keeping his much lither boyfriend in place.

 

“Good enough?” he questioned, wrapping his arms around Tim’s lower torso and letting a hand get dangerously close to what he knew was proof of just how much Tim was enjoying the situation.

 

Damian shouldn’t have been so surprised when Tim rotated his hips forward and pressed his straining cock right into his hand.

 

“I don’t know, is it?” Tim asked.

 

Damian didn’t respond, and instead chose to shift their postions and place an open mouthed kiss on the back of Tim’s warm neck. There was a quick jolt from the body beneath him, and Damian knew he had this in the bag. He made sure that as he trailed kisses down Tim’s spine, he followed every one with a bite. They weren’t soft, but that was okay because they weren’t meant to be. Rather, Damian wanted Tim to know that he wasn’t going to win this one so easily.

 

With a smirk threatening to reform on his face, Damian continued to follow the curve of Tim’s spine, paying particular attention to a vivid pink scar almost directly in the center.

 

“This was a close call,” he murmured against the flushed skin, slowly allowing his hand to come around and stop only at the damaged tissue.

 

Tim’s response was to scoff, and bring his own hand around to boldly grasp at Damian’s straining bulge. It was safe to say that the unexpected move made him see stars for one desperate second, and he felt no shame when he dug a fingernail into Tim’s scar in retaliation.

 

Tim hissed, and Damian mimicked the sound when Tim tightened his grip.

 

He hadn’t cum in a while, and while usually that didn’t bother him and he could ignore it, the pressure building in his dick was quickly leaving the realm of pleasurable and into ‘painful’, and the harsh cupping Tim as doing wasn’t helping. The ache was starting to intensify and even the rasp of his briefs felt like too much.

 

Tim’s hot skin, the pulsing of his own erection, the sandpaper like feeling of his underwear, and the long fingers pushing and squeezing at the already straining skin; it was all too much….

 

But for reasons he couldn’t begin to name, he didn’t want it to stop. It was all overwhelming and yes, painful, but there was something about the entire situation that just set him on edge in a way that he never wanted to stop.

 

“Fuck, Tim, do that again.”

 

There was a pause that may have only been a few seconds, but it was still far too long for him and then-

 

Tim pressed down hard, digging his nails into Damian’s thigh and he _bucked._

“Jesus Christ Damian, you liked that didn’t you?”

 

Damian’s answer was to drop to his knees before he lost their game right then and there, and dig his teeth into Tim’s taught ass cheek. Tim’s entire body shuddered, this time Damian’s smile was bereft of all animosity or arrogance after he left an open mouthed kiss on Tim’s soul mark. The color etched into his pale skin might as well have been from Damian’s own hand, and even if the words were cruel he’d never take them back. They marked Tim as _his_ and it was far too late to ever give that up. He couldn’t.

 

He went on to place both of his hands on either side of Tim’s hips and stroke small, soothing circles with his thumbs across the soft skin of Tim’s flesh. His bite mark stood out cherry red, each individual indent of his teeth clear as day on his boyfriend’s pale skin.

 

Eyes hooded, he pressed a light kiss against the mark with full knowledge that it would probably bruise, and then he stood quickly, and pulled Tim’s ass back into his crotch hard enough to hurt.

 

They both groaned, and he couldn’t tell if it was from pleasure or pain. He didn’t care, because there was a part of him that wanted both.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

He wasn’t sure why Damian kept lube in his desk drawer, and he couldn’t think clearly enough to ask when Damian pulled out the bottle because he was pushing down both of their briefs and dripping the liquid substance over his puckered asshole in moments. He felt fingers working it in and around and he’d promised they wouldn’t do this quite yet, he’d promised himself but _…_

_It felt good._

 

Damian’s fingers where thick; his nails filed short and even. Just the tips pushing at the sensitive skin made every other breath he took in stutter, and when Damian pushed?

 

Tim wanted slam his head into the desk just to get some sense back. Then the first knuckle of Damian’s ring finger cleared that first, tight ring and the second came through easily, and Damian was building a steady rhythm and Tim wanted _more._

His brain brought the image of Damian slipping the same finger into Rowan unbidden, and how easily she’d taken it and how Damian had added another and-

 

“Nghh- _Fuck._ How’d you learn to do this?” he questioned, ass clenching tight as images he knew he shouldn’t be having rolled through his mind.

 

Damian managed another finger in the time it took him to speak, and the delicious burn was almost enough to have Tim grinding back, but he couldn’t give in so easily, so he just gripped the desk tighter instead.

 

“Practice,” was all Damian gave him before he locked his fingers and twisted, winding Tim high right along with the movement.

 

Then Damian pulled out his fingers and Tim almost turned around to knock him into next week.

 

But the first slide of hot, hard flesh against his ass nearly undoes him. He’s had Damian in his mouth more than once, and so he knew the feel of him intimately already, but there’s just something about having him so near the one place they hadn’t gone that makes him grip the edge of the desk just a little harder.

 

The second glide had his toes curling and his teeth digging into his lower lip, but he wasn’t quite ready to give Damian the satisfaction of knowing just how close Tim was to losing their little battle of wills. So instead he bit back the moan he desperately wanted to release, and pushed back on Damian so that the younger boy’s next thrust had him right up against Tim’s aching asshole.

 

Damian’s answering moan was just as satisfying as it would have been had Tim been able to release one of his own.

 

It’s empowering enough to give Tim the resolve he needed, and he took a deep breath and set one very fragile boundary for them both.

 

“We’re not going all the way yet.”

 

He was almost completely sure that Damian swore in French, Spanish, Swahili, and most definitely Arabic.

 

“ _Why?”_ he nearly whined.

 

Tim was _almost_ ashamed when he pushed back and flexed his muscles around the hard dick sliding between his ass cheeks, knowing Damian wouldn’t like his answer but would be too distracted to care.

 

“You know why,” he said simply.

 

Then he flexed again and started a steady grinding rhythm, trying desperately not to pay attention to his own aching cock so as not to cum before his boyfriend. He refused to lose this time.

 

Damian said nothing, for once, and locked his hand back into Tim’s hair, the other resting on the other on his Soul Mark on Tim.

 

It would have been sweet if he wasn’t working his dick into Tim like a mad man while he did it, and pulling at his hair like he was some type of video slut.

 

Tim felt like he should have been concerned with the fact that he didn’t mind.

 

He also felt like he should have been more concerned with the fact that he kind of liked it.

 

Instead he focused on trying to get Damian to cum on his back so that he wouldn’t have to tell his family about who he’d been dating, and so he could cum afterwards as well.

 

He managed one last, lucid thought before he was all in, lost in trying to give his Soul Mate pleasure and then achieve his own release.

 

_‘Thank God for lube and the power of squats.'_

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

 

In the aftermath, when all is said and done and he could still see the slick of his own cum glistening off of Tim’s back, he was still riding his high.

 

“Uh, hey Damian?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

He was far too relaxed in post orgasmic bliss to even attempt to filter any of his words when Tim asked him a question.

 

“Do you think…? We should tell Rowan about this? I mean if it’s going to be a regular thing…” he trailed off, letting the truth of his words hang in the air.

 

What they’d been doing before was more for the sex and Rowan hadn’t been involved with either of them at the time. Now, whether they handled it well or not she was linked to them romantically and it was well within her rights to know that her boyfriends were screwing around (not that he thought she’d care). Besides, there were far more emotions involved when he and Tim were intimate now. And if not more emotion, then perhaps it was the sheer complexity. There wasn’t just the thrill, or the anger, or even just simple passion. Now it was for the connection and the closeness and even if it didn’t seem like it, Damian was trying his best to convey some of the affection he felt for the older boy through their interactions. Generally it was a good idea to let Rowan in on those things because she tended to be blindsided later when they didn’t. The whole thing with the lunch they’d had with Lian and Conner had taught him that.

 

But also…

 

“If we tell her are you hoping she’ll be more likely to join in next time?”

 

Tim was already red, but the color in his skin deepened anew and Damian knew without a doubt that

the idea had been on his mind.

 

“No! Of course not,” Tim bit out quickly, pausing for a moment in which Damian knew he’d caught himself in his own lie,” Not that I’d be opposed to that, exactly… I mean if she’s ready I’d be ready, probably.”

 

Damian snorted, and rolled his eyes at Tim’s lame save. They both knew when it came to Rowan and intimacy, there was nothing either of them could do except make her feel as comfortable as possible. She was cagey as hell sometimes, and only time and her own mind could help her.

 

That wouldn’t stop him from pushing his, Tim’s, and even her boundries, though. One achieved nothing if they could not find the will to reach for it.

 

“I bet if you asked she’d put on those heels again for you.”

 

Tim rolled his head over to glare, but Damian only smirked back. If Tim thought he hadn’t noticed just how interested he’d been when Rowan had worn her finery on New Years, then he really was losing his touch.

“Shut up, Damian,” Tim grumbled.

 

Damian really, really wasn’t feeling as tired as he should have been.

 

“I bet if you begged nicely she’d even walk in them and let you watch.”

 

 

Blue eyes narrowed, and there was a dangerous glint to them that Damian imagined usually only came about beneath a mask when Tim took a break and Red Robin came out for the night.

 

“Best two out of three?”

 

There was focus there, along with determination and the pure, unadulterated will to _win._ Damian had well worn green boots, a hooded caped, a domino mask, and a familiar spark in his heart that said he could do that too.

 

“You’re on, Drake.”

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When Jason finally made it back to his safe house for the night, the sun was just beginning to rise and he was more than a little pissed off to find that his fridge was completely empty. He was exhausted, hungry, and he just _knew_ Dick had been using his safe house again without his permission.

 

With that in mind, he felt completely justified when he slipped into the manor through a conveniently open window and strolled into the kitchen still in full gear. 

 

He’d evidentially missed any chance of the proper breakfast he knew Alfred tended to make, as Tim and Damian were the only ones sitting at the table. Tim was sifting through a heavy file while sipping on an overly large cup of coffee. His eyes were bloodshot with heavy bags beneath them, but he had the widest smile Jason had seen him sport in _weeks._

 

Damian on the other hand, looked ready to tear down a building.

 

“What crawled up your ass and died?” he questioned, tossing his helmet on the floor as he settled in a chair.

 

Alfred had always been pissy about setting any type of gear on any surface that wasn’t in the cave. Something about ‘cleanliness’, as if everything above ground level was meticulously clean 24/7 anyways. They’d all been through so much shit that a germ or two wouldn’t kill them.

 

Eventually, after not receiving a reply, Jason looked up from where he’d been trying to get his gloves off to see Damian glaring a hole through Tim as Tim continued to read through his files.

 

“Well, shortstack?”

 

Damian whipped around and growled at the nickname, and Jason just grinned back. Call him a demon spawn and he’ll ignore it, but comment about his height and the world’s ending.

“Mind your own business Jason, and reeducate yourself. Anyone with eyes can see that I’m obviously taller then you.”

 

Jason had assumed Damian was done talking, and had a retort about how Damian would _always_ be the same shrimp with a big mouth that he’d met a decade ago, but then Tim cleared his throat almost obnoxiously and Damian’s entire face screwed up into a nast sneer.

 

“ _Also,_ how would you like to attend a baseball game tomorrow?”

 

Jason was the slightest bit put off, but trying to figure out what Damian and Tim were doing was like trying to figure out why Bruce was so obsessed with justice but refused to kill. Some things you just didn’t question.

 

“Since when are you interested in baseball?”

 

But then again, Jason never had learned when to quit. If he’d had known his understanding of two of the boys he considered his brothers was about to get extremely convoluted, though, he probably would have learned how to right then.

 

“I’ve been interested since my girlfriend decided she wanted to play,” Damian snapped, for some reason redirecting the pure displeasure he seemed to be feeling back at Tim.

 

Tim, for the first time that morning, finally put down his coffee….

 

…In order to burst out laughing.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Rowan loved Lucy, she really did, but sometimes the girl made her wonder how much trouble she'd get in for shoving her through a window.

 

She'd had everything planned out, as it had been quite some time since she'd played a game of baseball at such a large scale and she was excited. Lucy had joined a little league team and so she'd had a uniform already, and all Rowan had needed to do was grab them both some t-shirts and baseball caps since it was a casual game and they really only needed their cleats and baseball pants. She'd also gone over to Lucy's house in advance to get her hair braided up, and then figure out what to do with Lucy's newly dyed and cut hair. The strands had ended up being short enough as it was, and so they'd opted to just pull some back and keep it in line with the baseball hat. Any other fancy braids would have been pointless.

 

They'd made good time getting dressed, and even eating a little bit before it was time to go...

 

Bet then Lucy had come up with the bright idea that 'hey let's just skate over! The diamond is close enough!'

 

And Rowan, sucker that she was, had only thought about the small apartment position in relation to the baseball diamond that they had booked for a second before saying ‘sure’.

 

Lucy had put on her roller skates, tossing her cleats into Rowan’s backpack, and Rowan had borrowed one of Lucy’s skateboards and put her own cleats in with Lucy’s.

 

They’d barely made it through one crowd before Rowan realized they were going to be late. She’d sworn up and down in that moment, but it had been too late to go back and they were already cutting it close. Sure the tournament was set up with two teams playing against each other at a time, and her team was in the second round, but they were still supposed to be there before _anyone_ started playing, and she’d already gotten three texts from the sports director at their center asking where they were.

 

Technically speaking it was a casual game and anyone was allowed to join in on the teams, and it was true that all the money earned from ticket sales would be split between the centers, but the winner also got a brand new security system and so it was a sure thing that every center had done their best to get the best players they could. Since Rowan and Lucy had actually played the games on teams, they were some of the best players and they _had_ to be there. Tati was coming too of course, along with some boys who played on different teams, but everyone needed to be there.

 

After the fifth text asking how close they were, though, Rowan had begun to ignore the vibrations of her phone and just skate. Every second she took to check was one more second they weren’t there.

 

Still, when a particularly long stop light had them stopped about a block away from where the game was being held, Rowan allowed herself to glance at her phone…

 

And she nearly missed the next light change. The center’s sports directory, Arthur, and her coach for the moment, had stopped sending her texts asking when they were going to get there and started shooting her rapid fire demands that they get there _now_ because there where so many people that they’d run out of seats, and it was probably because the _entire Wayne family had showed up._

 

Rowan didn’t know whether to laugh, or start sweating because she was pretty sure she knew what had happened. They’d expected mostly family members and charitable community members to show up, and the center staff had told all of the kids to ask whoever they could to come, so of course Rowan had asked Damian and Tim, and had told them to bring whoever they could. She’d expected that if they could come, they may bring Cassandra and Stephanie, or maybe Damian would even bring Colin if he was feeling in the mood to have one of his friends around.

 

She’d explained that it was a charity thing, as most of the youth centers in Gotham were struggling and could use any extra funds. The tickets where only $10 a piece, but every little bit helped. All of the centers that participated would get a cut, and the kids would have fun while playing a well organized game of baseball or more depending on how the teams managed to do against each other. They’d even gotten a medium sized security company to donate the time and wares for a new system, and it had seemed like a huge win for everyone.

 

It was fun, did something good for the community, and it wasn’t overly extravagant. It wouldn’t call to Gotham’s elite, or even middle class, but they’d get some people in and they’d make a little money, which was a sure thing.

 

It was safe to say no one really factored in that any of them would know anyone like say, _Damian Wayne._

 

She’d spent a lot of time around him in her short life, and most of that time was spent doing stupid, albeit regular things. As such, she often forgot how much weight his name carried. He was a prince of Gotham, and even more importantly in the current situation, he was a king of social media.

 

When Damian Wayne asked you to jump on twitter, there would be a thousand tweets in response that asked ‘how high’.

 

“Roooo,” Lucy whined, breaking Rowan out of her mini crisis,” the light’s green and we’re gonna be sooo late!”

 

Rowan knew they should have gone, but instead of moving she just covered Lucy’s mouth with her hand and thanked god for data as she pulled up her internet app and opened up the twitter, instagram, and tumblr all in separate tabs.

 

“I just need to see something,” she soothed.

 

Sure enough, when Damian’s profile finally loaded on Instagram, the first picture was of the pitch, and he’d captioned it ‘The things we do for our significant others… Tickets are $10 and it’s all for charity if anyone is feeling particularly generous today.’

 

He’d hardly posted it an hour ago, and there were already over two thousand likes.

 

She didn’t even bother to try and read the comments.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Theoretically, Bruce had known what to expect. Damian had been very blunt, and made it very clear with his exclamation of ‘My girlfriend is participating in a baseball tournament for charity. Either come or don’t.’

 

His youngest son had then left his study without another word, and Bruce had been baffled to find that when he left the manor thirty minutes later, all of his other children _and_ Alfred had gone with him.

 

The ‘girlfriend’ comment had been what had thrown him initially. He wasn’t blind in the least, and he’d known Damian hadn’t exactly been… Without the company of another person for quite some time. His son had gotten older, and he hadn’t been able to say anything when he’d started bringing people around simply because Bruce knew calling his son out on the array of partners he’d had in such a short time would be hypocrisy at its best.

 

Bruce knew he could only be happy with the fact that his son was developing normally on some aspect, and he’d nearly been ecstatic when Damian had appeared to be dating Lian steadily. Steady relationships where the sign of a healthy person, after all.

 

But then that had ended about the same time _he’d almost lost his son._ After that, Bruce was just thankful he still had a son, healthy or not. A broken mind could heal, as could a broken heart, and a broken body. But death was far too final for his liking.

 

He’d never handled loss well and at 41 years old he could finally admit that truth to himself.

 

He’d never handled loss well, and he knew if he wasn’t careful he could still lose any member of his family at any time. That was especially evident with his youngest, as Damian’s family ties where not as singular as the rest of his children.

 

For everything she’d done, Damian still loved Talia. He still loved his mother, and Bruce would never fault him on that, but it was a point of discomfort for him. There was always the niggling idea at the back of his mind that if something went wrong, Damian would go back to Talia.

 

That if something went wrong, Bruce would lose his son.

 

And so he tried his best to prevent that. He tried his best to raise Damian, but he knew he was still permissive in ways he hadn’t been with his other sons. He let Damian get away with a lot, and his personal relationships had been one of the things he’d left completely to his son’s discretion.

 

As he stared at his _two_ youngest sons sitting extremely close together and fidgeting amidst a massive crowd, though, he also admitted to himself that maybe he shouldn’t have given Damian _quite_ so much freedom.

 

Feeling decidedly uncomfortable, Bruce leaned in to his one ever present life line in this disastrous world.

 

“Alfred,” he questioned softly, “are they…?”

 

Alfred, for all of his fatherly tendencies, had never been one to coddle Bruce.

 

“It’s about _time_ you figured it out. I was beginning to think you were losing your mind to age, Master Bruce.”

 

Privately, Bruce wondered if maybe he was, because when a small, sweaty girl bolted into the Ivy Park bench area and both Tim and Damian finally seemed to calm down, he was surprised in a way he shouldn’t have been. She wasn’t a lot to look at, not with her hair beneath an Ivy Park baseball cap, held in two braids that were more frizz then braids at this point. Her small friend drew the eye more, what with her purple hair and pink baseball shirt.

 

But neither of his sons looked anywhere but at Rowan’s round, freckled face.

 

She’d always been there in the background; quiet, but a presence none the less. He’d looked into her the very first time she’d stayed in his manor, managing to entertain his son when few could even stand his presence. She was timid in a way that shouldn’t have worked with Damian, but Tim could deal with well enough. She was smart enough to keep up with Damian, but not a genius. She was healthy, with a family that was stable enough and seemed to love her.

 

She was average, with no exterior motives or aspirations that would affect his sons in any sort of negative way, and so he’d left them alone.

 

Theoretically, Rowan Chase made sense. He’d known about her, and he’d known what to expect. As soon as Damian said they were going to a baseball game to see his girlfriend, Bruce had _known._

 

Still, when she looked into the stands, and his sons looked back, he watched the way both of them grinned down at the quiet girl raised by a single mother and a baker grandmother, and he was completely bewildered.

 

“Jason said the gates were locked because too many people kept trying to get in, and since the girls got here late they actually hopped it. They didn’t even try to get anyone to open it for them,” Dick laughed from his opposite side.

 

Bruce had been sure he wouldn’t be able to get anymore confused, but somehow that managed to intensify the feeling.

 

“ _Jason’s here?”_

It was his stoic, introverted daughter that answered him this time from her seat between Stephanie and Barbara.

 

“He’s on a building across the street. None of us would miss this.”

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

When Rowan caught Damian and Tim smiling down at her, she couldn’t help but scoot some of the kids on the bench aside and stand up on the seat and holding onto the fence that separated the benches and the stands so she could say hi.

 

When she got a chorus of greetings back though, Rowan realized that her boys weren’t exactly alone and she blanched. They’d apparently gotten there early and seated themselves all in the same place, and in front of her sat not only Damian, Tim, Cassandra, and Stephanie, but also Dick, Barbara, Alfred, and _Bruce._ If the way they were all looking at her was anything to go by, then it was obvious that Damian or Tim had finally let the cat out of the bag, so to speak.

 

She wanted to jump into the ocean.

 

_‘Ok this is fine this is fine I’ve met them before it’s okay I’ll be fine.’_

Then Barbara did the one thing Rowan had been desperately hoping she _wouldn’t_ do.

 

“So how’re you doing? I know things like what happened at the labs can be really scary.”

 

Rowan had been hoping none of them would realize that she knew their identities, but as always karma had come back to bite her in the ass. This was definitely the world’s way of paying her back for thinking of pushing Lucy into that fountain earlier.

 

“What’re you talking about, Barbara?” Tim asked, while Damian appeared to be getting tenser by the second.

 

 _‘Fuck oh my god don’t say anything don’t say anything,’_ she begged the red headed woman with her eyes, but alas that didn’t seem to work.

 

“Oh she didn’t tell you?  A few months ago she got caught up in that whole thing with STAR when the generator got hijacked. You know Kate was out patrolling and she was the one who handled that.”

 

Rowan realized two things in that moment: the first was that her shaken brain had made her forget that Barbara was Oracle, and so she’d identified the wrong red head when she’d been saved from being a stain on the sidewalk. The second was that she had a reason for not wanting the boys to know, and if she wanted to avoid a very uncomfortable argument she needed to high tail it out of there now.

 

“Rowan what-“

 

She cut Damian off before he could finish speaking, stepping down from the bench as she did so.

 

“I’m fine I gotta go stretch bye thanks for coming,” she blurted, and then she was out of the bench area and completely ignoring the irritated calls from the stands.

 

That had been painful, and she had no doubt that had probably been one of the most awkward introductions she’d ever been a part of. Even if they were less of introductions, and more really gauche ‘hey look at this girl who your sons never told you they were dating she’s really awkward and oh look Damian and Tim she almost died this one time want to hear about it so you can lecture her later?’

 

But then she got into the rhythm of stretching out her body, remembered the dirt beneath her cleats and the bat soon to be in her hand, and she cleared her mind.

 

She had a game to win. (And an entire family to avoid. She was pretty sure the excitement of the after game would prevent anyone from bombarding her with too many questions.)

 

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

She’d been right. Three games, an aching soldier, and dead thighs later and Tati was screaming in her ear right along with the rest of her team. The rag tag group had beat out the other centers, and Rowan could feel pride bubbling up.

 

They’d finally opened the gates, and people were flooding onto the field. Rowan knew her Gran would find her soon, but she managed to tear away from Tatiana as she noticed a particularly large crowd coming their way. She was pretty sure she knew who was in the center.

 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice your boys up there!” Tati shouted above the crowed “I expect _all_ of the details tonight!”

 

While Rowan felt a strong aversion to having to try and describe what was going on with her boys, she felt immense happiness more. Tatiana would be spending the night at her house later, but for now she’d just take her moments as they came and deal with her nosey friend later.

 

She could feel the unadulterated thrumming of happiness throughout her body, and she couldn't help but grin hard at her boys when she finally reached them. She was sweaty, breathless, and probably caked in dirt but she felt _good._ It was that post game high that she'd always been fond of. Whether they won or lost didn't matter, all that was important was that they'd played, enjoyed themselves, and done their best.

 

That alone would have had her ready to bolt around the diamond one more time, but having Tim and Damian there? Somehow they made it so much better.

 

So as the Wayne family chattered around her without an ounce of the usual awkwardness, she basked in the free feeling she rarely got to experience. It was so consuming, so _complete,_ that when she looked up into the crowd and caught sight of Lucy's short purple hair, she didn't even panic at the sight of Harley up in the stands with her.

 

As the months had gone by, she'd noticed the woman tended to pop up every now and again, but she never said anything because Lucy _was_ her daughter, and it wasn't on Rowan's agenda to keep a parent away from their child. Still though, with about 6 of Harley's enemies crowded around her, Rowan had the slightest inkling that if they'd been able to pick her out of the crowd, there would be an issue.

 

She was sure the only reason they hadn't was because the woman was sporting large sunglasses, a mousy brown wig, and an over large sweatshirt that was far away from her favored scraps of clothing.

 

Combined with the fact that they normally saw her in full face paint, it was no wonder they hadn't quite spotted her yet. Rowan still wouldn't put it past any of them though. Tim, Damian, and Cass in particular where frighteningly sharp and a cool shot of fear broke through her happy haze as she realized what could happen if any of them found out about Lucy _right then._

It was for that reason that when Damian attempted to follow her gaze, she used what was left of her barely contained energy to stretch up and wrap her arms around his neck, and she grinned wildly up at him when his gaze intensified and locked on her.

 

"Rowan?" He questioned softly, the noise of the park seeming to soften with every second that rocketed by with his eyes staring into her own.

 

She was close enough to see the green of his irises in depth, and the familiar jewel tones filed her with excitement and made her stomach flip as her thoughts rushed.

 

He'd always been particularly touchy with her; not that she minded. It was simply that she was used to him being more reserved with his cuddly nature when in public. Lately though, he'd also been much freer with his affections with Tim, which made her heart sing in a whole new way. He and Tim had brought their family to see her play, and Damian had even gone as far as to help her rally more support for the Youth Center, which was something she knew she cared about more than he did. Damian was... Opening up.

 

She loved it.

 

"You've got pretty eyes," she whispered to him, smile still wide enough to make her cheeks ache.

 

His resulting chuckle was just a little startled, but heartfelt all the less and she found herself pulling him down farther as she stretched up, back beginning to arch just the slightest bit.

 

"Rowan, are you okay?"

 

Before she could help herself, she found her eyes trailing from his own down to the curved bow of his full lips.

 

"Yup," she told him offhandedly, heart thrumming as she popped the 'P' of her one word reply.

 

Leftover adrenaline from the game kept her body from aching, joy from the funds they'd raised kept her mind worry free, contentedness from the fun she and the kids had enjoyed while playing allowed her to remain guilt free for not telling anyone that Harley Quinn was sitting in the stands, and love for the boy in front of her had her leaning up those last few inches to press her lips lightly against his cheek.

 

She pulled back just long enough to see Damian's face slacken in shock, and then she leaned forward once more to plant a light kiss onto his lips.

 

He didn't even have time to lock her in place before she had bounced out of his grasp, and darted off to find Tim.

 

She had her arms around his waist, and cheek against his chest with a shy smile on her face when she finally said something she felt she couldn't quite express enough.

 

"Thank you."

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

When Rowan had leaned in, He'd held his breath as she gazed up at him, her wide eyes focusing only on him. He'd never admit that in that moment, as she leaned towards him he was desperately afraid she was going to ruin him. He was afraid that he'd simply made the worst possible move, and would pay for it by losing her.

 

When she continued forward, however, his heart skipped a beat and he stopped breathing because her soft lips were warm against his cheek, and while it may not have been as satisfying as the feeling of their lips meeting, it created a warmth deep within him that was just as addicting. When she pulled away, he almost asked her to do it again, but the abashed way she stared off to the side and picked at her hands kept him at bay.

 

Then she kissed him on the lips; light and airy and his heart nearly stopped.

 

The warmth of her kisses still tingling on his cheek and his lips, Damian finally realized that even if he could never get enough from the girl in front of him, he'd still take whatever she was willing to offer like the starving man he was. As long as she offered, even if it was her shoulder pressed up against his or a simple kiss on his cheek, they'd be just fine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In all actuality I found that I really enjoyed writing this chapter??? Like part of it was pure sin but part of it was so wholesome. And I had a good flow while writing it and I just enjoyed myself :3 The ending was a little harder to write, but all in all I think it came out well??? Yeah lol
> 
> Also I made the gorgeous fanart the SherlMerl drew me into my new cover because?? I love it??? So much??? I can not put into words how much??? I fucknig love it??? Good god do I love it. S o much
> 
> If you wanna see what Lucy and Ro were wearing, head over to my avericenspice tumblr where it’s posted :3


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im sorry for not giving you guys more updates. My writing just hasn't been flowing lately, but I'm not done. That's why this is so short... I've had it mostly done for a week or so, but I wanted to add more. I've been blocked, though, so I figured I would just go ahead and post. We are almost at the end, but we're not done yet. Thanks for everyone who's stuck with me, and hopefully I'll be able to write more soon. Also I should probably let you all know that I broke the charger for my laptop, so I won't be able to use it for a while. Hopefully my phone will work alright, but that means here will probably be more errors /:
> 
> ALSO YOU BEST BELIVE IM ABOUT TO COMMIT TO THE MAKING IF A HORRIBLE BASTARDIZATION OF YOUNG JUSTICE/TEEN TITANS PLOT LINES AND UNIVERSES. WHY? because I'm trash I'm so sorry.

Rowan wasn’t really a person to harbor regrets. It wasn’t that she was able to look towards the future so easily; rather it had more to do with the fact that she tended to only make decisions that she was comfortable with before doing anything at all. She wasn’t one to push boundaries, and when it came to important things, she had the tendency to over think and agonize over the little details until there wasn’t much left for her to do anything other than forge ahead. That was just the way she’d always been.

  
Except, of course, when it came to Damian and Tim. Maybe it was the years of familiarity she had with them, or maybe it was the hard to understand structure of the relationship they shared. Maybe it was the ever complicated emotion people called 'love'. Whatever it was, her boys had the frightening ability to make her do completely stupid, completely impulsive things.

  
Like kissing Damian in front of an entire crowd of people.

  
Now it wasn’t that she regretted kissing him. Yes it had been impulsive, but despite all else she had wanted to do it. She especially didn’t regret the absolute shock she’d left him in since catching Damian off guard was like seeing a unicorn riding the subway.

  
What she _did_ regret, however, was doing such a thing in the middle of a full to the brim baseball field. Specifically, a full to the brim baseball field comprised of a ton of Damian Wayne’s devoted media followers, and more importantly, _their families_.

  
If that hadn’t been enough to make her want to go into the past and punch herself in the face, then the way Damian had been getting into her personal space lately was. He’d always been touchy feely despite his off putting demeanor, but now he wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it.

  
She found that whenever they were seated, he tended to pull her into his lap and his hands settled on her waist, thighs, or hips fairly often now. It wasn’t even just that either. There had been a marked increase in ‘accidental’ boob brushes which she knew weren’t so accidental because of the fact that she was actually noticing.

  
She figured both Tim and Damian must have taken the quick kiss she’d given Damian as an indication that she was okay with more physical things now, because even Tim had begun to mimic Damian’s bold touches.

  
Now he wasn’t quite as… out there with it, as Damian had been, but considering who it was, Rowan wasn’t surprised. Instead of pulling her into his lap, Tim had taken to awkwardly pulling her into his side when they sat, or leaving his hand on the top of her head wherever they were. She had the sense that he probably wanted to tangle his hand in her hair, but he had the good sense not to. Still, he did everything as if he was just as nervous as she felt, and that was pretty much the only reason she allowed it.

  
Damian, though, often got a smack for his efforts.

  
Maybe it was a little mean, sure, but as Damian attempted to drag her into his lap while they waited for their food at a place a little ways from her Gran’s shop after they'd come to tell her about an out of town excursion they'd be heading on that night. She could tell they where antsy about leaving her for whatever they where doing with the Titans. She could tell from the looks on their faces that it was going to be something with the entire team, and that it would be dangerous. It was something they thought she wouldn't like, and so they didn't really tell her.  
Which was exactly what happened with every mission they had.

  
So instead of them enlightening her on whatever ultra dangerous but ultra important task they had for the night, they'd managed to bribe her away from prying with food.

  
In doing so, Damian had also managed to yank her into his personal space. Rowan could already feel memories of the same situation with a very different outcome coming to mind. Her cheeks where already flaming and she could hardly breathe as a couple of girls a few tables away from them openly.

  
“Stop it!” she hissed, slapping Damian’s hands away in an attempt to not to make a spectacle in public.

  
Not that it helped too much. See, yet another thing she’d failed to think about was the fact that with all those people in such a small space, someone had to have seen her getting cozy with her boys.

  
It just turned out that ‘someone’ was about thirteen someones, and they’d all managed to snap pictures. That, combined with Damian’s original Instagram post mentioning a significant other was the ultimate fuel to the flame.

  
The thing about media, she'd learned, is that the moment it caught gossip the the routes went off in about a million directions. She'd had a taste of that before she'd gotten to go home because there had been about 20 people who had come up to her to ask about Damian.

  
That had managed to freak her out so much that she resolved to stay away from social media until everything died down (which Tim assured her it would). It turned out it had been a good thing she had completely shut herself off too he Curious wave, as the snippets she got from Damian and Tim where enough.

  
Damian wasn't necessarily a superstar, but the fact remained that he the son of Bruce Wayne, one of the biggest players in Gotham's business game, and so that made shoved him pretty high up the social ladder. He was a passing fancy to those who cared enough to look at trashy news, and the unattainable wet dream to Gotham's young socialites.

  
A lot of day to day people didn't know his face, by they sure as hell knew his name. It was the same issue for Dick, Tim, and even Cass. Evidently Jason was the only one who got away with living his life without a few cameras pointed at him, but she had a hunch that had more to do with the fact that Gotham pretty much thought he was dead.

  
So as it was, when people saw a random chick kissing up on their beloved teen heart throb, they all got their panties in a twist.

  
So far, her favorite theories where the ones where it was a publicity stunt for her Youth Center to get more money, the ones where she was dying and the make a wish foundation had granted her dying wish to get a kiss from Damian Wayne, and then the one that amused her the most actually came from those who weren't super dismissive of the idea that she could possibly be dating Damian. Those theories just revolved around her two timing Damian with Tim.

  
Turns out people had caught the embrace she'd shared with Tim as well.  
A small, amused smile tilted up the corner of her lips as she lamented on such thoughts, and that in turn, seemed draw Tim's attention.

  
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When Rowan had chastised Damian only to go still soon after as she stared off into space, Tim figured her mind had left them as she contemplated something else. He knew he was right when a familiar absent minded smile appeared on her face, and he had to hold back a laugh.

Damian looked appalled that she could be in his lap and still manage to pull her attention elsewhere when he was trying to demand all of it, from what Tim could tell. The younger boy opened his mouth to speak, something fowl most likely on the tip of his tongue, but Tim beat him to it.

  
"Rowan? What're you thinking about right now?"

  
At the sound of her name, her eyes widened and her entire facial expression changed as she came back to her surroundings. He was used to the change, and it was pretty cute to watch if he was honest with himself. As long as he'd known her, she'd always seemed to drift off and snap back the same way. It was something he had learned that she only did when she was completely relaxed, so when he happened to see her do it, it left him warm. Though as she got older, she seemed to be more in control of it; better able to multitask between reality and her own mind.

  
"It's nothing," she replied flippantly.

  
"Nothing shouldn't have you staring off into space," Damian pointed out.

  
Rowan, to her credit, volleyed back without missing a beat.

  
"Yeah, well it shouldn't keep me from stabbing that hand of yours with a fork either."  
Tim felt completely unashamed in the bout of laughter he fell into after that, especially when Rowan coupled her words with a glare and a sharp jab at the hand Damian had lingering around an exposed area of skin between her shirt and pants.

  
He still held firm in the idea that his laughter was justified even after Damian's hand struck him in the throat hard enough to cut off his oxides supply for just a moment and leave him wheezing.

  
"Damian!" Rowan gasped, immediately struggling in Damian's hold in order to lean and check in on Tim.

  
The result, as far as Tim was able to see through his watering eyes, was that Damian had a firm grasp around her waist as she leaned dangerously far out and flailed.  
Honestly considering their recent PR problem, making a scene like that wasn't the best idea, but he knew his Soul Mates didn't really care at that moment.

  
When Rowan, still flailing, managed to grab onto his face and tilt his head up with her soft hands and worried gaze, he found he didn't much care either.

  
"You know Damian, I bet if you left her alone she'd be more willing to touch you instead of getting mad when you grab her like that," he rasped, shifting his face into Rowan's soft Palm with the knowledge that he'd managed to get what Damian had been after in all the wrong ways since Rowan had kissed him.  
The look on Damian's face could have decimated the city it had so much power, but Tim just grinned.

  
He was still grinning when Damian tried to slam him into his seat with a punch to his solar plexus, only to have his punch caught in Tim's hand and his cheek accosted by Rowan's pinching fingers.  
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

One of the things Damian had learned early on during his time as Robin was that every case or mission was different. Some had seemed bind numbingly easy, some had proved to test him to his core. More importantly, while some left his mind as of little consequence, there where those that stayed forever.

The ones that lingered weren't necessarily the most dangerous. Sometimes they where simply too odd to forget, or in certain cases entirely too traumatizing, even for one such as him. Then there where the ones that stayed in the mind, lingering simply because there was something just a little bit off in the aftermath.

Usually the cases that lingered where the ones that provoked his deepest instincts. These cases told him that whatever the outcome, it wasn't truly over, and that was what made them dangerous. Most of the missions that involved such a feeling included the Joker, and maybe that was a given, but there where others. Damian was sharp, and he was thorough, so there weren't many, but if he'd learned anything at all in the past 10 years, it was that people where unpredictable. Man, God, alien, or monster; they where all the same.

That was why as he stared at the destroyed rune patterns etched into the stone wall, he didn't ignore the feeling in his gut that was still making his muscles clench with warning. Klarion wasn't really human, nor was he really a god, but he was certainly something in between. He was power and chaos and those things in in themselves where unpredictable.

It was there, as his comm crackled, that Damian truly realized that despite the ruin of the temple as a weapon , they were not truly done.

"Robin?" Tim's voice asked, coated with all the expectations of a man well into his position of commander.

For a single moment, Damian'a carefully put together visage cracked and his gut clenched at the sound of his Soul Mate's voice.

Then he was bringing his forefinger to his ear in order to open his comm's connection, and he had slipped back into his second skin as easily as if he'd never left it.

"Everything this way is cleared, send the team through."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry if this seems choppy... I'm a little bit of a mess atm. I promise I'm still definitely going to finish, I just need a little time :)
> 
> Hopefully we'll get to the funner stuff soon, but this needs to be here... 
> 
> In the mean time, I'm waiting to finish my summer class and get a new charger for my poor dead laptop, and to actually get to sleep. I e got all my ideas though, so hopefully we'll be rolling through the good times. 
> 
> Also rest assured Ro's gonna get called out on her situation with falling off a building... Eventually lmfao
> 
> Sorry for any typos, I'm posting off my phone :/


	46. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a new charger and I managed to get this chapter written B)
> 
> Honestly I’m so astounded with the feedback I’ve gotten on this, yall don’t even know. 
> 
> But also I am so, so happy with how the first part of this chapter turned out. Like I enjoyed it and I felt like it portrayed what I needed it to.
> 
> Im sorry I haven’t been putting out more chapters, but idk I guess at this point ive just slowed down. My goal is to give you at least one chapter per month, if not more, but ya know. I’ve got to enjoy this too and I can’t write what I don’t feel. Thanks for bearing with me guys.

Bruce wasn’t always home when his children where, and that had more to do with the fact that all of them where pretty independent and had things to do, but when he was, he tried his best to interact with them. Whether it was having a simple talk, or sitting down to try and play a board game, Bruce had aspired to use his time wisely.

So when he came across Damian brushing down Titus’s coat on one of the manor’s terraces, he stopped and tried for a fatherly chat.

“How’re you doing?”

The boy who had once been smaller then the very dog he was grooming hardly looked up.

“I am fine, Father. And you?”

Bruce smiled at the concentration Damian had devoted to his pet, but forged ahead with an initiative that some, particularly the board members of Wayne Industries, may have called a little bit vicious.

“I’m tired, but I’ll manage. I was wondering something though, and I thought that perhaps you could help me with it.”

Finally, Damian looked up and settled a heavily calloused hand on his dog’s head.

“Yes?”

Bruce had tact, but with Damian blunt honesty always worked out better, and he’d had these questions brewing for quite a while.

“Why didn’t you tell me who you’re Soul Mates where when you got your Marks?”

He stepped forward as he spoke, because intimidation had always helped get answers in his experience.

But Damian wasn’t cowed so easily. He never had been as a young boy and now as he was nearing adulthood, his insolent streak held strong. In the beginning, Bruce had seen so much of Jason in Damian’s will that it had been almost hard to do anything but compare the two, but once they had come together Bruce had realized that while there where startling similarities between them, there were even larger differences. It was these differences that he had watched grow and prosper, and to his amusement, build off of each other. All of his children did it; how could they not? They all had varying personalities but each increased the growth of certain aspects.

Dick’s work ethic hiked with Tim’s, Cassandra’s love of horror movies grew with Stephanie’s every time the two had their little movie nights, Damian’s harsh fighting style picked up knew movements with every spar with Jason, and so the cycle went. They supported one and other, in their own ways, and they thrived.

Damian’s temper, always volatile, had only evened enough over the years for him to be surer in his outbursts, and now Bruce stood before the tall young man as he himself stood and sent his dog out of the area, and wondered why he had to be _the one son who wasn’t afraid of his ire_.

“Oh? So that’s what this is about? You wish to call me on my lack of initiative in telling you who _my_ Soul Mates are?”

When Damian phrased it like that, the entire thing sounded very invasive and suspiciously like bad parenting on his part, but Bruce would hardly let his son’s sharp tongue get to him. He’d been dealing with it for years, and Damian wouldn’t wear him down now.

“What I’m _saying_ is that you should have told me that you two where in a romantic relationship! How long has this even been going on? I’ve been thinking of both of you as my sons, as _brothers._ ”

The words left a bad taste in his mouth, but they were true. The Soul Mate bond wasn’t decided specifically by the person at a random time, but it still felt as if his two youngest sons gone behind his back. It was true they weren’t blood, and true that Tim had and would always have a Father besides him, but still.

“Father, if you’d been paying any sort of attention you would know that Tim and I have never considered each other brothers. What would have even been the point of telling you? We’re not ready to be married, and we have other issues to deal with. Besides, when have _you_ ever bothered to tell me of your romantic entanglements? When have you ever bothered to tell any of us? Does _Alfred_ even know who your Soul Mate is?” Damian bit back, fists clenched tight.

There were multiple ways he could have handled his reply, and all of them would have been more delicate then what he actually did.

“I will admit that perhaps I haven’t paid enough attention since all of this is currently happening, but the point of telling me is that I am your Father! I deserve to know what’s going on in your life. I don’t have to tell you about any of my flings, especially since none of them are serious. But you knew that already didn’t you? You all do, because I’ve never bothered to hide it from you. I haven’t been hiding my Soul Mate either. You’ve all seen my Mark.”

Bruce really, really should have seen where their conversation was heading.

“And you’ve seen mine, but that didn’t tell you who my Mates where did it? It didn’t tell you what they looked like, what they acted like, or what they meant to me. If it was truly such a big deal then I assumed a grown man such as yourself would have thought it fit to simply _ask,_ ” his son all but growled.

“Ask? That’s what you wanted me to do? If that’s all you think it takes, then why haven’t you asked me yet? I’m assuming from your entire argument that the reason why you’re being so difficult is because I didn’t tell you.”

Too late, Bruce realized what he’d done.

“If I were to ask, would you tell me?” Damian said, voice almost deadly with its edge.

He thought back to what Alfred had once told him; long ago, when he’d first taken custody of Dick and had managed to do nothing more then become convinced that he had no idea what to do with a child.

 _‘Be honest with them, Master Bruce.’_ Alfred’s voice said, echoing through his mind. He had a lot of love for his children, but he knew he had difficulties showing it sometimes, so telling them was the next best thing. Telling them the truth, when it was needed, was all he could offer.

“Yes.”

Of all of his sons, Damian looked the most like him in build, but he also looked the least like him in their coloring despite being his only biological son, and their eyes clashed in blues and greens.

“Who then? Who’s words do you have no your skin?”

Fear was something he was all too familiar with, but he hated the feeling just the same.

“Selina. Selina Kyle.”

It was a name. A simple name for a complicated woman, and one he knew his son would recognize because they’d all tangled with Catwoman enough to know the name behind the suit. It was a name that shouldn’t have been surprising, not with the words ‘Let go of me’ slashed through with a cat’s sharp claws just across his chest. Not with the heavy flirting and half partnerships Batman and his Cat had shared for years. Not with the almost-villainess’s forays through the Batcave when she felt like dropping by. Yet, as he watched for Damian’s reaction, he thought that surprise would have been preferred.

Because his son looked at him with acidic green eyes, and Bruce felt a sort of shame he wasn't quite familiar with. He'd thought by keeping the truth of his own Soul Marks from his son that he would spare the boy the turmoil he would have assuredly experienced, but now with the facts laid bare Bruce knew that justification had been wrong. His rationalizing hadn't been the truth, because as he stared at his son, once small but now growing far too quickly for his liking, Bruce knew he was nothing more than a coward.

He wondered what Gotham would think if it knew its Dark Knight could stand on the brink of destruction and death, but could not stand to face his own mistakes.

"Why?" Damian questioned, the rest of his question left to hang in the space between them.

_'Why not Talia? Why not my Mother?'_

He could have said that they would have never worked. He could have said that her wrongdoings could not be forgiven in his heart. He could have said that Talia was not someone he could ever love. He could have said any manner of things that would have been honest, but hurtful to his youngest son.

"Why Tim? Why Rowan?"

Instead, Bruce chose the ambiguous route, and the man behind the mask fell under the weight of himself once again.

Batman had long ago become fully realized, but Bruce Wayne never had quite figured out how to grow from the confused little boy who wanted nothing more to have his parents back, and so he hid behind mask after mask until even he wasn't quite sure who he was anymore.

He hid, and he hid, and as his son’s face came to life with Talia's anger and Bruce’s very own familiar resolution, Bruce watched from behind his cool facade as Damian walked away.

Their conversation was over, and Bruce had no more answers at the end of their confrontation then he did at the beginning.

 _‘The world’s greatest detective…’_ whispered through his mind; a cruel mocking of everything he had built himself to be.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Tim, despite his best efforts, wasn’t always the most perceptive when it came to the ever shifting relations in his family.

He tried his best, and most of the time he was spot on, but on certain days his entire perception of the world as a whole was simply shot. On these days, he’d usually been up for over 24 hours straight, had failed to consume anything other than coffee and Top Ramen, and had over ten assignments he’d been working on simultaneously.

Granted when he came out of these benders his work was sound, but the fact remained that during those times, his judgment could be pretty impaired.

That’s why when he wondered out of his room after an afternoon of research that had evolved into a night which had then turned into morning, his sleep deprived brain could focus on little more than refilling the coffee pot he’d dragged into his room at some point and seeing if that takeout in the fridge from four days ago was still edible.

Still, even with dehydration, sleep deprivation, malnutrition, and probably some other things that involved him not actually seeing daylight for far too long addling his brain, Tim was able to see that something was wrong with Damian when he came stomping through the kitchen.

 

The younger man’s face was drawn tight, and ever muscle in his body seemed to be tense. What _really_ caught Tim’s attention, though, was the long string of curses Damian spewing.

So after Damian had yanked open the fridge, pulled out an apple, slammed it shut, and taken a rather vicious bite, Tim raised a hand to get his attention.

“Hey,” he called.

Damian turned on him with a glare like death, but Tim was hardly fazed.

“ _What?_ ”

The snap in Damian’s tone was sharp, and Tim acknowledged that something must really be bothering his boyfriend as he cracked open a new box of sugar and proceeded to pour half of the entire thing into his freshly brewed coffee pot.

“I don’t know, just figured you might want to talk or something?”

Tim ran some statistics from one of his cases mentally as he eyed his coffee, carefully stirring the sugar so that it would dissolve. It disappeared after a few seconds, and Tim breathed in the heavenly sent as he brought the entire pot up to his face.

 _‘Blessed be to the elixir of life,’_ he thought.

He’d been out of coffee for a few hours now, and was almost itching for a sip… And he would have taken a swing right from the piping hot pot had strong arms not slid around his waist.

He probably should have been more sympathetic, but he had time sensitive products sitting in his room so he followed the first idea his mind came up with.

He elbowed Damian in the stomach repeatedly until he backed away, and before he could complain, Tim squinted at him and pointed.

“You are getting in the way of my coffee.”

He made sure to continue to stare the now exasperated boy down as he backed away, lips inching towards the heavy pot of coffee in his hand.

When he was back in his room, door shut and locked and blinds drawn tight, the screens of his various devices the only illumination in the room, he continue to ignore the ache behind his eyelids and sent a quick text to Rowan before diving back into his work.

Ro would take care of Damian, and he could finish what he needed to do. If it was anything too bad, they’d tell him. After all, nine times out of ten, when Damian was in one of his moods all he wanted was some cuddling. It was Rowan’s turn for once, and Tim would take the next time.

So, with some assurance that he’d done the right thing, Tim fell back into his routine, sitting in the dark, sipping coffee, and completely ignoring the fact that he hadn’t showered or slept in about three days.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

It happened fast, as important things tend to, and she was completely blind sighted.

She’d found herself let into the manor by Alfred, who had given her that happy smile of a tired Grandpa who was happy someone else had come to watch over his over active grandchildren. Or at least, that’s what she imagined it to be.

After the usual pleasantries, she’d set off on a hunt for what was sure to be a pissed off Damian in need of distraction and possibly persuasion from buying a new pet just to spite his dad. Well at least he’d told her that the tiny zoo he’d amassed had come from his need to torment his family members (Evidently Jason hated the hoard of fighting dogs Damian had picked up a couple years back from an animal fighting ring, and Stephanie wasn’t fond of the pig she’d found in her bed wearing a collar with ‘Stephanie’ etched on it. ), but Rowan knew the truth. There simply wasn’t an animal on planet earth Damian could resist, point blank.

So, now that he was in a bad mood according to Tim, she figured it was a good idea to try and placate him from buying a tarantula or something else weird that he’d undoubtedly love and use to try and irk his family.

That mindset was how she ended up standing awkwardly off to the side when she stumbled upon Bruce, Damian, Tim, Cass, Steph, and Dick apparently talking out the logistics of an upcoming mission. She was sure they all knew she was there, what with her worn in converse clad steps being fairly quiet.

Still, no one said anything, Tim barely sparing her a glance as he sucked back what she figured was his eight thousandth cup of coffee given the dark mars under his eyes, so she just.. Waited. Bruce, for his part, looked as if he wanted to stop the conversation the moment she walked in, but Damian wouldn’t let him, not with the fire behind his argument. What Damian wanted, he got, and she guessed he wanted to play a certain part in the mission that was just important enough to keep him from shutting up about it around her.

She waited, and how could it be her fault if she heard what they were talking about when no one bothered to stop? How could it be her fault if, as they tried to work out the delicate situation of handling what sounded like an _illicit sex ring that exploited children and adults alike_ , that she began to see some connections of her own? How could it be her fault if, as they spoke about how to get into the tightly regulated ring, she saw something that could possibly help?

Because what they were talking about was getting an invite to one of the illustrious events held by the group simply known as ‘Lux’ so that they could dismantle it from the inside. Get the kids out, collar the leader, etc… She had a feeling that there was more going on there, but nothing that she actually wanted to hear. To get an invite though, the individual had to catch the attention of a ‘recruiter’, and she could only imagine what someone had to do for one of _those_ invites. Still, Damian was adamant about being bait right along with Dick and  his Father… and Steph and Tim where behind playing bait as well. All things considered, it raised the chances of them getting what they needed, but she could see what kind of position that put Bruce in, as their father.

She also knew about Damian’s soft spot for children, and she knew if kids where being hurt, someone would have hell to pay, and soon.

And then, out of everything that really could have set her in to any type of action, Rowan heard the name of the place the recruiters where supposed to be, and when.

Some things, Rowan knew, simply fell into place. Events aligned, situations matched, and circumstances where right and just sometimes, two incredibly opportune things happened to coincide with each other. It was what most people considered a happy coincidence, but she knew sometimes 'happy' didn't always apply.

Still, it was quite the interesting phenomenon, and as she listened to Damian argue with the ever so allusive Bruce Wayne, Rowan was intrigued as such a thing seemed to fall into place right before her eyes. She was intrigued _just enough_ to rock back on her heels and shoot Tim a quick text, completely ignoring the fact that he was on Damian's side of the argument for once just a few feet in front of her.

 _‘God must hate me because this is just **too** coincidental…’ _she thought.

She knew he'd read the text when his careful interjections to Damian's argument stopped, and he turned on her with piercing blue eyes.

" _What do you mean it's Elizabeth's party?"_

Suddenly all the noise in the room seemed to be sucked into the void left by Tim's words, and she balked. Everyone had turned to stare at her and she tucked herself farther into the corner of the doorway. She'd texted Tim in the expectation that he'd _text_ her back, not blurt out her admission for all to hear and inevitably _stare._

Not quite willing to even acknowledge the expressions of all those who were looking her way, Rowan's gaze was drawn to the ground and she tried desperately to force her face from going too red.

"Um..." was all she managed to squeak out, and she knew she was failing miserably.

The deep baritone of Bruce Wayne, sans his usual billionaire playboy front, rang clear through the room and it did not help Rowan's plight _at all._

"Why exactly is your sister hosting this event?"

She didn't bother to dwell on how he knew Catherine was her sister, nor did she try and figure out why he wasn't pissed at the fact that she was very civilian and very much in his home listening in on a conversation she had no business hearing.

Instead she focused on keeping herself from withering into nothing under the older man’s intense stare, which mostly involved staring at Tim and hoping he knew how much she hoped he choked on his next mug of coffee.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, she found herself backing up slightly as Damian moved towards her, all that fire trained her way.

_‘Damn it…’_

“Uh I mean- Married! She’s getting married?” Rowan tried, mouth stumbling and mind supplying her with a numbing mixture of too much and too little.

Everyone was looking, expectant, and she wasn’t prepared for _any_ of it. Whooping Damian’s ass at the new Mortal Kombat? Yes. Eating him out of house and home? Of course.

Having to explain why fucking glorified freaks and sex traffickers where scoping out their newest clients and victims at her sister’s event? Hell to the no.

Tim, the blessed boy, was the one who ended up saving her.

“Is this part of that celebration fundraiser thing your sister is having for her wedding?”

Rowan moved so fast that she almost hit her own side as she pointed at him, eyes wide and head nodding.

“Yes, that!”

Honestly she felt kind of stupid, especially since she’d _just_ started to get comfortable around Steph and Cass. She liked the two girls, and here she was embarrassing herself. Her odeal wasn’t over yet, though.

“What is it?” Steph asked.

Deciding to just focus on one person at a time, Rowan dropped her hand and twisted her fingers together, trying her best to pull out the right information.

“It’s like- I guess her bachelorette party? Except not really? She’s uh, a DJ… Does pretty well for herself… And everything… She and her Fiancée asked around at some of the more major venues they’ve plaid at over the years. They’ve got a good fan base and they worked out some deals with the management at the venues to bring in a larger then average crowd for a certain percentage of the revenue. The money is a wedding gift from the management I guess, and each venue is listed as an ‘event’ for the really big ten part celebration they’re having. They’re doing it big, you know? My sister’s Fiancée organized the first part and they held this huge rave in Tokyo, and the next two parts are going to be out here in Gotham. The bridesmaids are doing those, and we’re all supposed to do something different that we know they’ll like. I’m working with my Mama and another of the bridesmaids to get this underground Skate Park thing set up since my sister’s Fiancée loves skating, and the one you’re talking about is a lounge that Melanie’s doing. She’s one of my sister’s bridesmaids, and she owns it. It’s like this weird hybrid of a dance club and a lounge. She’s got these really skilled exotic dancers who stay up on the top floors, and the dance floor is downstairs… But I mean I guess you would know that…”

It had gotten easier to talk as she went, the facts aligning, but now she was only slightly less nervous.

She’d honestly expected an explosion or something equally catastrophic at that point, but it was Cass who followed the end of her explanation, her tranquility calming to Rowan.

“So you can get us in with no issue, then?”

Rowan nodded. It wasn’t like they’d have any issue really, considering that they where the god damned _Waynes_ , but it made more sense for them all to be there for someone they knew… And thanks to Damian, it was pretty clear that they all knew _her._ She was damn glad the weird people who where obsessed with the pretty and elite hadn’t found her bakery yet.

“I mean I’ve got to go and we’re all supposed to bring as many people as possible…”

Rowan got her explosion, then.

She also evidently solved their problem, because now Damian and Tim _had_ to go, to protect her of course.

She figured whatever had gone down between Damian and his dad was the only reason they got away with it.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

She’d been expecting it, really; for them to try and push her out of the entire situation. She got what she’d expected mere hours later, after she’d gone home and talked to Liz, who was excited to meet her boys.

“So as long as you leave early and find something else to do when we get near our target, things should work out fine,” Tim finished explaining.

As always, the camera and time of night was making his skin glow during their video call, but for the first time in months she didn’t tease him for it.

Rather, she remained silent and tilted her head up to stare at her ceiling as she contemplated the plan Tim had laid out for her.

According Tim with quite a few additives from Damian, Bruce would be staking out the club as Batman with Cassandra as Black Bat while he, Stephanie, Dick, and Damian entered the club as patrons. Technically Stephanie and Dick would be the ones acting as ‘bait’ to try and get an invite, which basically meant finding the right person to seduce. They had some tip offs on who the recruiters would be, and so the older two of their group where tasked with trying to get an invite. Damian and Tim where there as an extra set of eyes to make sure things stayed clear, and to help steer the recruiters toward their siblings. As a whole, the four Wayne children would attract enough attention, especially since Steph and Tim weren’t normally out in such settings. Thanks to Damian’s recent behavior and his vague postings about Rowan for the past few weeks, it wouldn’t be so unusual for them to be at that particular portion of Elizabeth’s event. Granted all of the clubs her sister was playing at would be open to whoever could get in, but the fact that Rowan was a bridesmaid and apart of the planning only cemented the idea that the Wayne kids would be there by coincidence, and no one would begin to suspect anything they shouldn’t.

But, despite all of that seeming simple enough to Rowan, and safe to boot considering that she knew every single member of Batman’s team had gone on much harder missions _alone_ , her boys where still adamant that she stay as far from everything as possible. Despite saying they trusted her, and giving thanks for her easy in to a delicate mission, she could still see the disapproval and discomfort in them.

She could have come clean right then and told them things they probably would have blown up about, but would have proved that they didn’t have to treat her like a glass; that they didn’t have to stick her in a curio cabinet locked away and hidden from everything they thought would break her. But she didn’t.

And so as tendrils of hurt spread like frost throughout her body, Rowan decided to do something she’d never consciously entertained the idea of doing before.

It was a little dangerous, a little spiteful, and entirely stupid.

But Rowan bit the inside of her cheek until it bled and decided that if they didn’t trust her enough to let her in on their burdens, she wouldn’t trust them with hers.

She was weak, she could admit that. She’d never be a fighter, she’d never be the hero, but she was not incompetent. She was not someone who knew so little of the world that they needed to forever be in fear that it would crush her with its weight. If they wanted to shield her from the pain of the lives they’d led for years, so be it, but they couldn’t shut her out.

Not if they truly wanted her in the ways they said they did.

So as she tasted the copper of self inflicted pain and imagined what it must feel like for them to have done so for nearly their entire lives (Because they chose to be heroes; they opened themselves the blood and agony their paths always brought), Rowan did not mention to either of them that by their definition, she’d already endangered her life by simply living. She didn’t mention that she would never willingly choose to give her all for the world, but she would give her all for _them_ , and because of who they where she could acknowledge that one day, it would probably be the same thing.

She didn’t mention that she’d strolled through Gotham by herself with nothing but the shadow of night to protect her. She didn’t mention that her reason had been nothing but the request of a young girl. She didn’t mention that she’d arrived to the sight of Harley Quinn stripped of her villainous attire for once, interacting with her daughter as Harleen Quinzel, the woman behind the insanity.

She didn’t mention the fear she’d felt, or the subsequent ease after realizing that every person had more than one side to them. She didn’t mention that she’d sat in a dingy apartment eating Chinese food with a tired nurse, an ex psychiatrist turned psycho villain, and a little girl who was well on her way to a mental ward.

She didn’t mention that she’d met, accepted, and agreed to look out for the daughter of their worst enemy.

She bit her cheek, looked them in the eyes as they told her that she would never be able to handle the most defining part of their lives, and did not try and argue that she was already in far too deep with no chance of ever getting out.

She loved the stupid boys even as they doubted her, and so she left them with no further protest because she had nothing left to say.

 _‘Tik tok, tik tok, tik tok,’_ her mind helpfully supplied, counting every moment until Tim figured out that leaving her in the dark would do nothing but make her stumble and Damian realized that she already knew the dark parts of him that came out when he fought.

They’d figure it out eventually. One way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyways so in the upcoming chapters we will get: more batfam, more titans, more super teenagers being regular teenagers, more ‘omg these super teenagers need to be regular teenagers for a sec this is sad’, more Rowan being pushed out of her comfort zone, angst  
> In the upcoming chapters we might get: more sexy times, more lucy, more pets, conflict, resolved tension, Selina Kyle, friendly bonding, parental bonding  
> Thanks for reading guys, love ya, and tell me what you think   
> Also I start school Next Week RIP.


	47. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS I REALLY AM TRYING TO KEEP WITH MY ONCE A MONTH THING.
> 
> Anyways I’m finally getting things to go the way I want them to in regards to this story, so that’s good. If anyone has any questions about like headcanons or little tid bits about the story or whatever else you can think of feel free to ask me on my tumblr. I opened up asks lol.
> 
> Also there has been a bit of a time skip as of a few chapters ago and I’m really sorry for not making that clear. That was an error on my part, but after so many chapters and so many things going on sometimes things slip through my immediate scope. With that said, I’m sorry for any inconsistencies in this chapter to begin with. This is a long chapter, and I wrote it in pieces where I kept jumping back and forth. I tried my best to catch everything, but in my haste I may have missed something.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy. 
> 
> PS. My birthday is on September 9th and this is my early birthday present to myself

Tim knew he was absolutely fucked, for lack of a better word, the moment he stepped into Rowan’s room.

 

See, in the past few months Tim had noticed a startling development in Damian. The rapid change in height, musculature, and other physical features were something he was already quickly adjusting too. Damian was sharpening in both appearance and mind, and despite his more annoying habits, the changes where good for him.  The changes where good for everyone really, because while a more mature Damian meant trouble for any of their enemies, it simply meant good things to come for their families.

 

Still, there was one change that kept Tim on edge in more ways than one. That change was, of course, the innate sense of sensuality in his very being.

 

Time had passed much too quickly, their birthdays flying by along with the still tentative navigations of their developing relationship, and at  18 Damian Wayne had shed the awkwardness that came with puberty in favor of an easy grace that bellied his large frame, an impeccable sense of sophistication, and the kind of looks one generally found in GQ magazines. Tim was pretty enough in an almost feminine way, with the naturally jittery movements of what Rowan had long ago dubbed a ‘stay at home nerd for hire’. He’d taken offense when she’d first teased him for his occasional awkwardness with his long limbs and tired mind, but she wasn’t far off with her observation. He was man enough to admit that he’d slammed into the side of a building _one_ too many times in his life.

 

Damian, though, would never be taken for anything less than power wrapped in grace. He thought like a predator on the prowl and more often than not, he moved like one too and for all the discomfort that thought could bring it was also really… Sexy.

 

Tim found himself cringing at the thought despite the fact that this was _his boyfriend and he was allowed to think he was sexy_. Despite knowing this, and having done the kind of things with the younger boy that were far more sexual in nature than any word, it still seemed as if he was applying a completely foreign concept.

 

The idea of Damian with his acid tongue, bratty behavior, and constant readiness to fight being anything near _sexy_ was weird all by itself.

 

And yet as Damian leaned up against Rowan’s vanity trying to convince their unimpressed girlfriend to wear something or the other, Tim couldn’t keep his eyes off of the way his full lips pouted just right, looking almost as soft as the perfectly tailored silk he’d chosen to conceal what Tim knew to be even more perfectly cut muscle.

 

It was wrong and entirely misplaced considering what they had to do for the rest of the night, but still Damian wasn’t even trying and his hooded eyes and very prescience still had Tim strung tighter than any badly made porno ever could.

 

Before he could help it, Tim found himself glaring, though Damian barely spared him a glance. He’d spent the whole ride glancing at Tim and smirking as if he knew every thought he’d been having. Tim had begun to think Damian had been doing _something_ , and that the ill timed revelation had been his plan all along.

 

Then they’d gotten to Rowan’s and Damian’s attentions had shifted to her, and Tim had still been left in that awkward state between extreme discomfort and something else.

 

Damian of course, managed to find that string deep in his gut that was the very fine line between ‘casual appreciation’ and outright arousal and snap it like a piece of thread.

 

And Tim had no one but himself to blame for letting his boyfriend do that because he was the one who’d chosen to finally pay attention to what Damian was actually doing, and subsequently realized that he was probably some type of pervert.

 

 Because Damian had evidently been trying to convince Rowan to wear a pair of sky high heels that he’d bought her, and somehow he’d won. Currently he was crouched between her legs, pants pulled taught against his ass as he helped Rowan into the heels.

 

For the life of him Tim could do nothing but watch enraptured as Rowan’s small feet fit snuggly into the shiny black pumps, her skirt sliding down a thick thigh and Damian’s hand cradling the curve of her calf. For the life of him, he couldn’t stop imagining those thighs wrapped around Damian’s head and the feeling of those sharply pointed heels digging into his own chest.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Bruce Wayne was going to lose a son.

 

Bruce Wayne was going to lose a son because Rowan was going to murder Damian Wayne with the very monstrosities he was forcing her to wear instead of the much more comfortable, much smarter chunky heels she had planned on.

 

She knew from the beginning that she’d be required to dress up, that had been a given. This particular party was a little higher on the social scene since much like her Mother, Liz did enjoy a good run through the high society rings every now and again.

 

So, with that in mind, Rowan had pulled out a red wrap skirt that her Gran had picked up for her months ago, borrowed one of her Mama’s solid black tops since she couldn’t find anything in her own closet to match it, thrown in a long sleeveless cardigan, pulled out her chunky four inch heeled booties, and called it a day.

 

Then Damian had texted her, asking what she was wearing. She’d assumed he’d needed to know in order to figure out what type of clothes he himself should wear, and so she’d sent him a picture of the outfit hanging on her closet door without any further response.

 

That had been a week ago, and she hadn’t given it another thought.

 

She should’ve. She really, really should’ve. If she had, she might have been able to avoid Damian bringing her a golden box with Louboutin scrawled across the top and platform heels topping out at over six inches hidden within. The bottoms where scarlet, the black leather was sleek, the heel was thin, and they where without a doubt the most expensive article of clothing her home had ever seen.

 

And she was terrified to even think of putting them on.

 

“I hate you,” she told the boy who had sweet talked her into letting _him_ put them on.

 

Really, it hadn’t even been much of a sweet talk.

 

“No you don’t.”

 

It had mostly just been her telling him that she did _not_ want to put on the super fucking high super fucking expensive heels.

 

“Yes I do.”

 

He, in turn, threatened to ‘accidently’ break all of her other heels if she had such an issue with the ones he’d brought her. Obviously if she wasn’t a fan of his impeccable taste and fond of the shoes that where so much better than anything she owned, then she wasn’t happy with anything currently in her closet either.

 

“You sure about that?” Damian questioned, the hand holding her calf sliding farther up, just brushing over the sensitive skin behind her knee.

 

She shivered, but maintained her glare all the same; glad that he’d finished fastening the straps he was currently working on so that she could jerk out his grasp and push him back, new heel pressed firmly against his chest.

 

“ _Yes._ ”

 

His threat had been childish, but she knew without a doubt that he would trash all of her shoes and replace them with what _he_ wanted too if he didn’t get his way. So, here she was. Rowan had no desire to have her things destroyed, nor did she feel comfortable taking so much money from _anyone._

 

Damian stilled for a second, but then he pushed against her foot without flinching, and she in turn dug her heel in harder in an attempt to force him back.

 

He stayed put and picked up her other foot, throwing her off because she refused to move her heel in order to balance. She fell back slightly, her hands behind her to brace herself up and she hoped she looked half as bitter as she felt.

 

Damian, for his part, held a smirk that was nothing less than dangerous.

 

At this point in her life, she knew to be very wary of that smile. So as he held the butter soft leather licensed by Mr. Louboutin, fitting her foot carefully into the straps, she frowned at him, digging her heel farther in warning. She was very, very uncomfortable accepting such a gift from him and he _knew_ it. He’d never before spent so much money on her at once, and she had no idea why he would now.

 

“What’re you doing?” she questioned carefully, figuring Tim would bale her out if Damian tried to do something stupid.

 

Well, he’d actually been suspiciously quiet so she hoped he would do something. She’d hate to have to kill him too. She was already dreading explaining to the Batman why one son had to be buried, let alone two.

 

Damian’s smirk didn’t falter under the weight of her obvious accusation. As a matter of fact, it turned nothing short of lecherous.

 

“I’m enjoying the view.”

 

It was then, with terrifying clarity, that Rowan realized that with one foot propped up on his chest, the other in his hand, and her body leaning back he was given a very clear right between her thighs.

 

Really, it wasn’t such a surprise that she immediately stopped breathing and pulled her limbs close into her body much like a startled turtle.

 

Well, maybe if startled turtles wore 6 inch platform heels that cost more than she spent in four months.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

She caught him staring. It took a good, long while, but she did it.

 

She’d been curled up, those heels tucked over one another ever so carefully, blushing from Damian’s admission. Her hair, straightened as he’d rarely seen her wear it before, was brushing the skin well past her shoulders, and her legs, despite being clamped tightly shut, where still on display and calling him.

 

So of course, he couldn’t look away, and she caught him.

 

“ _What?_ ” she growled, the sound more akin to an angry kitten than anything else.

 

He could have said her skirt was riding up, or told her that her shirt was pulling low. His brain, of course, did not coroporate.

 

“Your _legs_.”

 

It may have come out a bit like a moan. That may have just been him choking on a dust mite. The world may never know.

 

(The smarmy look on Damian’s face said _he_ knew.)

Slowly uncurling and straightening out her clothes, Rowan seemed to finally realize his situation and she eyed him warily, almost disbelievingly.

“Again… What?”

He gulped, noting that the action was harder then usual.

“You look…” he tried to find a way to say ‘like something from my wet dreams that I really like to pretend I don’t have at 20 but do and wow it’s wrong but fuck you’re gorgeous’, and eventually settled for “…Good.”

There was a very, very tense silence that did not help Tim become any more comfortable in his own button down and close fitting slacks at all.

“She looks like a whore,” Damian said, breaking the silence in the rudest of ways.

Rowan gasped, hand raising to swat at Damian at the same time Tim went to punch him.

Damian side stepped them both.

“ _You’re_ the one who put me in these shoes!” the girl in questioned complained.

Damian, of course, provided what he considered to be a logical explination.

“The shoes are fine, obviously. So is the rest, it’s your _face_.”

It was in that moment that both he and Rowan seemed to remember something neither of them ever really cared about: Damian hated when Rowan wore makeup. It was sweet in that he preferred her natural face, but really mostly terrible because he was an asshole about it.

Still, Tim was marginally thankful because firstly, his semi hard on was long gone, and secondly, he could hear Rowan’s Gran coming down the hall to probably tell them it was time to go.

The woman was only letting Rowan go because Elizabeth had begged and assured that her youngest bridesmaid would be well taken care. She was convinced that she needed _all_ of her wedding part with her at as many events as possible, and she’d managed to get Rowan down to the club on about fifteen conditions and through multiple broken laws.

Tim thought Rowan may have been thinking of breaking a few more laws as she stared at their tactless Soul Mate with murder in her eyes.

 

Eyes which Damian refused to take seriously because unlike usual, they were lined black and done up with thickened lashes and glittering shadows. Personally, Tim thought she looked wonderful if a bit older.

 

He didn’t tell her that in fear that something less refined would come out of his mouth instead. Like how much he really, really wanted her to step on him.

 

 _‘This. This is hell,’_ was his last thought before they left; his girlfriend’s Grandmother shooting warnings under her breath, his girlfriend pinching his boyfriend whenever she could over his continuous insults to her choice of makeup, and his libido crazier than it had been in his first few months of puberty.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

When Liz saw her the first thing she said was, of course, about the shoes.

 

There was no 'hey' or 'glad you could make it'.

 

There's just a quick gasp, a squeal, and a 'How the _hell_ did you get those?'

 

Rowan could only grimace, and point her thumb over her shoulder at what she was sure was a smug Damian.

 

That only made it worse.

 

"Ooooh! You look so cute, Macaroni! Your boobs look great, did he get you that top too?"

 

In that moment, Rowan was grateful for foundation because she just about blushed to the roots of her hair. That type of redness would have just clashed horribly with the scarlet she'd painted her lips.

 

" _No._ I borrowed it from Mama," she mumbled.

 

Liz seemed to deflate, but she perked right back up with Damian's reassurance.

 

"I would've gotten her an entire outfit, but the one she already had was sufficient."

 

Rowan would have been more grateful if she couldn't practically feel Tim still staring at her legs, and see the words 'Sugar Daddy' on the tip of Liz's tongue.

 

She kept her eyes glued to Liz's as she reached back and smacked Damian on the arm.

 

"Don't you _dare_ say it," she warned the older girl.

 

Liz, with her powder pink lips, just smiled sweetly

 

"Say what? You shouldn't be ashamed; you know how many girls would love to have a Wayne for a Su-"

 

Rowan refused to let her sister finish, sliding her foot between Liz's pink platforms and hooking it forward. The taller girl was immediately thrown off balance, and Rowan felt no shame as she went crashing down to the floor in her own 6 inch heels right along with her.

 

"Rowan!" She screeched.

 

At the moment, she was glad she'd chosen to put in some contacts because she was sure her glasses would have been cracked under her now sore ass.

 

"It's the heels," she told Liz," they're just so dangerous, you know?"

 

Liz, to her credit, was smart enough not to say anything about said heels again. They both knew that Rowan would totally go for mutual destruction if she saw fit.

 

The two girls continued to stay on the floor, short skirts riding dangerously high and faces contorting into increasingly ugly expressions at each other all the way until Tim finally pulled her up, and Liz's bridesmaid of the night came running to see if her friend was okay.

 

Melanie wasn't particularly tall, but she was rather thick with muscle. Her shoulders were wide, her hair was cropped short, and she had the type of angular face that many would consider masculine, but she also had an air of sophistication and the type of innate endearing quality that made her easy to be around. She was also a very gentle person in general despite her imposing figure, and was extremely caring. That didn't mean she was necessarily a pushover, though.  All of her dancers where we'll taken care of and she had a 0 tolerance policy for harassment.

 

Her club reflected this well, as the atmosphere was just as welcoming and sophisticated as its owner. With dim lighting, something spicy yet soothing scenting the air, and low pulsing music thrumming through the space, it was no surprise as to why it was such a popular spot.

 

As Rowan allowed Tim to help her back onto her feet, she spotted one of the dancers moving on the floors above, the light just enough to flash off of a supple thigh, and Rowan had the flippant thought that it was no surprise that she definitely wasn't even old enough to be there.

 

The night had hardly started, and indulgence of the sensual kind already permeated the air. Really, Rowan was sure her simply standing near the entrance was grounds for the police to come shut down Melanie’s fine establishment.

 

Except they were in, you know, Gotham. The one place on earth where rules weren’t rules unless you actually broke them repeatedly with very little fear of consequence.

 

Well, unless you where stealing or murdering someone. Then you had to watch out for Batman and Co.

 

Making a sound of discontent, she watched Melanie talk to Liz and took a moment to admire their coordinating pinks. Melanie had pastel pink for her bridesmaid’s color, and she’d dressed accordingly. Both the women looked great, and Rowan had a feeling that looking great would be a trend for everyone in the club…. And that was unsettling too.

 

“Rowan?” Tim called softly from behind her.

 

Cocking a hip to shift her weight, she turned her head to glance at him over her shoulder rather than bother completely turning around.

 

“Hm?”

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

Tim’s throat was dry. His throat was dry, his pants felt tight, his skin felt sticky with perspiration, and he was having a really bad night.

 

And it was all because one of his Soul Mates lived to make him uncomfortable, and one just managed to do it naturally.

 

Currently the latter was truly doing a great job by simply looking at him, heavy lashed eyes lidded in the low lighting, and thick hip drawing his attention with a careless protrusion.

 

For a few moments his brain felt scrambled and his tongue tied itself, but then the low buzz in the back of his mind that was always alert despite whatever else he had going on kicked in, and he focused himself back on the current issue.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

His girlfriend was becoming increasingly tense, and he was concerned.

“Ah, I guess…” she said, fully turning towards him.

 

He listened to her words, but he also watched her body language because he’d found that she was far easier to read that way. Honestly it was becoming alarmingly difficult to watch _just_ her body language.

 

He managed, though. Red, plumped lips turned down slightly farther than normal, arms crossed under her bust almost as if to fold in on herself, and nails digging into any free flesh.

 

“You’re uncomfortable?” he asked at the same moment that Damian simply moved to her side, placing a hand on the top of her smoother than usual head.

 

She didn’t nod, but she didn’t deny it either and for the first time Tim was able to really see through the gorgeously made up form she’d put up to the very familiar socially awkward girl beneath. His heart clenched for her, but then Damian said what he wanted to say before he even knew he needed to say it, while reminding him of something pretty important.

 

“You’ll be fine; if you couldn’t handle it your Mother and Grandmother would have never let you come. They trust you; trust yourself. You’ll be able to leave soon enough, anyways. We’ll be here until we get what we need, but you only have to stay for an hour or so, right?”

 

Rowan didn’t necessarily relax, but her visage seemed to shift into something no less tense but a little less familiar, and Tim realized that he didn’t necessarily have time to examine that. He could only take comfort in the fact that it wasn’t any of the signs of her limitations that he knew.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” she finally said.

 

And that was that, because it was time for Tim to drop the quickly unraveling hormonal teenage boy that he was to become the slightly more put together but no less hormonal teenage boy he needed to pretend to be in order to get an invite to somewhere that disgusted him.

 

Really, he was fucked. (But there where lives that needed saving, and so he’d deal.)

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

She made it through the hour.

 

She sat upstairs in the corner on a far too comfortable black velvet couch, avoiding anyone and everyone and marveling at the way Melanie’s dancers moved like liquid lust.

 

She let the boys be because they had something important to do and no one seemed to recognize her in her short skirt and painted face anyway, and she simply kept tabs from her silent perch.

 

The irony wasn’t lost on her, of course, but she ignored it in favor of figuring out what she was going to have as the special on the bakery the next morning. She had no school, which was one of the largest reasons her Mama gave the okay for her to go, but she would have to get up to bake. Now that her Gran was in full health it was easier, but she’d still have to get up.

 

Getting up to make a nutella cheesecake or caramel cream puff was, after all, much less nerve wracking then worrying about the throng of people moving in a writhing mass below her.

 

She’d seen Bruce drifting through at some point, which had been awkward, and she’d caught a flash of Dick’s dark head flirting with one of the dancers, which had embarrassed her beyond end, but still she’d said nothing to no one.

 

Melanie had situated Liz and Ai plus their bridesmaids behind a roped off section where the bottle service was unlimited and only those who were invited could come on back.

 

After taking one look at her face, Liz had crushed her in a hug, thanked her profusely for coming, and told everyone that no one was allowed back. Rowan had been thankful and mortified all at once, but eventually she rolled with it.

 

She’d sipped on her ginger ale, watched everyone’s drinks, and let the conversation flow around her until the clock struck midnight and she could slip off to the dressing rooms hidden in the back of the club.

 

Melanie had let her stash some more… Comfortable clothes in the dressing rooms after introducing her to the (rather nice) dancers. So, when she was ready, Rowan said bye to her sister, making sure she knew how happy she was for her, and she’d slipped off.

 

One tshirt, one pair of shorts, and a hoodie later, and Rowan was scrubbing off the face she knew Damian hated in order to let her regular one breathe.

 

She was fine with makeup for the most part, and she had liked her final product, but not fidgeting with her lips or rubbing at her eyes had been hell, so a little soap and water was a welcome relief.

 

As the warm, damp cloth dragged across her skin, Rowan took a breath and let the steam coming off of her wash cloth clear hear nasal passage and her mind. She held it there for a moment, simply letting the heat open her pores.

 

When she finally took it away, the cool air left her feeling fresh and her eyes opened to really look at her reflection. Makeup, she knew, could do as little as enhance one's natural features, or make them into an entirely different person. When she did up her face, she found herself falling somewhere between those two things, and now the difference was all too apparent.

 

Fresh faced as she was, her cheeks had taken on a natural ruddy hue and every freckle stood to attention. Her eyelashes stuck to themselves with condensation, and all together she looked about ten years younger. Really, she looked her age.

 

She looked every bit of the 16 year old she was, perhaps a little younger even.

 

And it was then, as she stood in her basketball shorts and Tshirt, that she had a dangerous thought.

 

In her normal attire Rowan could have been almost androgynous had her breasts and waist not been there to tattle tell, and from behind or when she was draped in a hoodie she knew many could scarcely tell her gender at all. But the fact remained that no matter what, she looked young.

 

And so with the pieces coming together, Rowan found herself examining something she'd never stopped to think about before.

 

Too young, a little fat, large breasts, and just on the feminine side of androgynous, she could have fallen into any number of the all too shady world of kink, because at the end of the day everybody was someone's wet dream whether it was wrong or right.

 

Add in a couple of boys; one jail bait and the other just above, plus the racial differences...

 

Despite her discomfort with sex in the real world, Rowan could admit that she was far from a prude. Her reading material let her in on some weird things, and the Internet opened her up to some even _weirder_ things. Some of it she saw in passing and had no issue with, some of it downright disgusted her, and some of it made her wish she had no idea such things existed... But they where there because _somebody_ liked them. Chances where, the more taboo the more someone was willing to go to the extreme to get what they wanted. Sex, she found, was weird like that.

 

And the group her boys where trying to tangle with tonight, ‘Lux’ or whatever, liked that weird.

 

And maybe, just maybe, that scared her a little. Sex wasn’t just physical. It was mental, and messy in more ways than one. It was _dangerous._

So, she was just a little scared, and maybe that’s what drove her towards Damian on her way out after she’d spotted him at the bar. Maybe fear was what drove her to do the exact wrong thing, because she wanted to prove to herself that _fear_ didn’t rule her. Maybe that was what made her ignore everyone else despite the odd looks and the disapproval and the fact that in her bare face and flat feet and freckled cheeks she did _not_ fit with Damian’s polished persona.

 

Maybe fear, in some weird indiscernible way, was what had her right up under her just as _dangerous_ boy while he was in the middle of a mission he wanted her nowhere near in the first place.

 

 _‘But,’_ she thought, _’ maybe it’s that same weird possessiveness that’s got him looking at me like that.’_

 

They where, after all, in place where gorgeous was a commodity everyone wanted a piece of, and she could imagine what a guy like Damian could pull in. She’d _seen_ the people approach him, and yeah, they’d been turned away.

 

But some hadn’t, and even if she’d known the reason maybe the words on her skin had her heart screaming ‘mine’ as her mind screamed ‘fear’.

 

She looked into those green, green eyes, and had another thought.

 

‘ _Maybe he understands.’_

 

And then the atmosphere of the club caught her, after she’d stripped herself of her finery and was moments from getting out.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

"You've got eyes the color of jealousy," she murmurs, and even if he doesn't completely understand, he finds himself responding anyways.

 

"The eyes are the window to the soul."

 

Her smile is slight, and the way it makes her rounded cheeks rise is something he knows he's going to paint someday.

 

"Why're you jealous?"

 

He leans in close, and he can smell the scent of sugar on her skin and suddenly he's ravenous.

 

"Because I don't like when others interfere with what's mine."

 

He was high strung from the mission for sure, playing with people on the off chance that they would give him what he needed, but it was her that had strung him even higher beforehand and he wasn’t quite sure if that was a problem or not.

 

But then she’d sought him out, face devoid of the lies she’d painted and body swathed in familiar clothes and he’d seen the way she’d been watched. Some curiousness, some censure, and just the smallest bit of interest.

  
It was the interest that set him off, though, because he never had been good at sharing.

 

He makes sure she feels every word against her throat before his teeth catch her tender skin.

 

There were eyes on him, he knew and not all of them are friendly. Not all of them are safe.

 

Yet, despite these things he worked his lips against a vein, and caught her arms in his grip when her entire body lurched. A small, less then pleased part of him was saying that he probably shouldn't have enjoyed the idea that someone was watching them, but the larger part of himself wanted as many people as possible to know that she was his... And so he used his mouth to let them know without saying anything at all.

 

Maybe that was why, without any further action, he found a slim card being slipped into his back pocket. Because he was possessive, Rowan was receptive, and both of them where far too young to be playing with the fire he was trying to create.

 

 _'She's only 16,'_ a voice that sounded suspiciously like Tim whispered in the back of his mind.

 

 _'You're a fool, to have let yourself become so compromised,'_ said another, this one with a sharp feminine edge that he knew all too well.

 

Then, against any other better judgment in his own mind, be it condescension or warning, Damian found his _own_ voice.

 

_'I'm never letting this go.'_

Tim, so near, was the one who ended up in his line of sight as his mouth travelled to Rowan's neck, and her head tilted back as his tilted up. Blue eyes shining, pupils blown wider and just the slightest thrum of adrenaline keeping his body tight and on high alert... Tim was watching them and everything all at once, as he usually was, and Damian knew without a doubt that those sharp, calculating eyes could read every thought in his mind.

 

He didn’t care, and he made it known as he let his lips travel back up her neck towards the gentle curve of an ear without worry.

 

“You’re phone just vibrated, and I’m sure the only one texting you at this hour would be your Gran. Go home.”

 

When he released her, it was with the knowledge that she was halfway under the crashing tides he and Tim had been feeling all night, and that he would pull her all the way down soon.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Once upon a time, there was a prince and a princess. The prince was fair of heart and face, the princess gifted with poise and beauty, and both where destined to do great things. Together they met, married, fell in love, and all the kingdoms rejoiced in their union, knowing their precious monarchs could do no wrong. Soon, the two young souls created a new life together, bestowing all of their purifies on the little bundle of joy. Their daughter, a wonderful little princess, was loved by all.

 

Truly, a story such as that was a good story. It was a perfect story. It was the story every little girl dreamed of, at some point in her life. It was the story that society told every little girl that they should have had, anyways.

 

That story was not Lian's.

 

With sharp looks and even sharper arrows, Lian Harper was a force to be reckoned with. Her dad toed the wrong side of hero and her mother played with the right side of villain, and some days she imagined herself somewhere in between.

 

Today, as she dodged a magical blast that all but sucked matter from existence behind her, she felt as if her mind was playing hero but her heart was screaming villain because all she wanted to do was drop her bow and walk straight out of the mess she was currently in.

 

But that wasn't something she could do. That wasn't the right thing to do. That wasn't what a _hero_ would do.

 

And hero was the path she'd chosen for herself, and she'd stick to it.

 

Because in the real world, there were no fairy tales. In the real world, you had to _fight_ for what you wanted.

 

So she listened to her team captain give orders, rolled out of the path of yet another of Faust's blasts, and _fought._

 

When the tower alarm had gone off, only she had stopped to wonder just why so many villains of the magical persuasion where out and about lately, but she hadn’t dwelled. With only her, Irey, Jai, Raven, Connor, and Rose currently in the tower, she hadn’t had time.

 

That lack of time and team mates was how she’d ended up one on one with Felix Faust while the rest of her team battled the _literal demons_ the madman had summoned. So far she had no idea what he was after, but she _did_ know his demons had been wreaking havoc on a nature reserve that had _some_ civilian population since it was open for hikers.

 

Swearing, she knocked another arrow and narrowed her eyes at the sorcerer. His combat skills were weak as far as she knew, but his magic.... That's what she had to watch out for.

 

"If you where to die today, do you think you're soul would remain?"

 

Lian was confused by his question, and that only made her angrier. Some villains, she knew, tried to confuse with their words. Monologues could be a weakness or a strength depending on the person, because a few extra seconds was all it took to end a fight.

 

Yet still, she rose to his bait while making sure to keep her surroundings in check. She was loath to admit it, but she couldn't win this fight. Not alone. Had he been more of a brawler, she would have been fine. He wasn't, though, and she knew Raven was much more suited to get them all out of their current predicament. What she needed was to give the older woman time to reach her.

 

"No. My soul is destined to drag yours straight to hell," she spat.

 

She expected annoyance, or rebuttal, or even another ball of magic to be shot at her face. Instead she got an amused smirk.

 

"Really? And what would it's mate think of that, I wonder? To be left all alone on this mortal plane?"

 

Now no one could say that Lian was a bad fighter, but she certainly was an emotional one. She liked to think she got that from her dad.

 

That emotion was why she ended loosing her arrow as her own feelings came bubbling to the surface.

 

"Do you mean my Soul Mate? Who're you kidding? That's irrelevant, fairy tales with happy endings and all that gushy soul match crap is a lie," she growled.

 

To herself, she thought ' _Daddy didn't have a Soul Mark and he found Mom just fine, why the hell should they matter so much. If you want something you fight for it.'_

To her ever growing ire, his amusement only seemed to rise, and she grit her teeth so hard she was sure they'd be nothing but sand in moments. The old magic user was playing with her, and  she _hated_ being played with.

 

She would shove an arrow straight down his throat and see how much he wanted to _smile_ at her then. She'd land a point right through his heart and see if he wanted to tease and taunt about souls and matches still. She'd-

 

"A lie, you say?" he whispered, the fact that he was now inches from her  face barely reheat wrong.

 

Slowly her anger melted into shock, and the rage she'd worn like a mask moments before slipped. Too late, she realized that she'd gotten caught up in herself. Too late, she realized that this was how even the best of. Heroes died.

 

 _'It's too late to react,'_ she thought, ' _It's too late.'_

"Do you know, " Faust whispered, his magic crackling audibly around them," that most would be willing to wait lifetimes to meet the person that's supposed to complete them? That this would make it so easy, and yet you seem to shun one of its most basic desires?"

 

He didn't wait for an answer, and Lian didn't think she had one for him. Her mind was occupied with the white electric like currents snapping just beyond her eyes. She was only able to look away for a moment as he spoke again.

 

"So tell me, little archer, what is it that you desire?"

 

Suddenly, her limbs seemed to go numb, and all she could see was green reflecting off the sharpest of blades.

 

Her body failed her, but her mind roared to life at the sight.

 

_‘Fight for what you want.’_

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Raven's feet touched the earth only a yard away, her magic sliding from her skin like well worn velvet and her cape twisted about her body, and she had just enough time to scream her mantra and blast Faust away before he could catch Lian's fallen body.

 

She ran to the girl who was now nothing more than a pile unmoving limbs, and then knew that her 'just in time' save was no save at all.

 

Because Lian was breathing, her skin was flushed, and her eyes where open, but her sclera and irises where fluffed pitch black, unseeing.

 

Raven had been too late, and the real tragedy was that she had no idea of what she'd been unable to prevent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So let me clarify something: I don’t read a lot of comics. I’ve read some batman and robin, I’ve read some teen titans, I’ve read the killing joke (who hasn’t tho), and that’s pretty much it. Everything else I know comes from research, movies, and shows. I love my boys, I really do, but I just. Have not read a ton of comics.
> 
> So with that said, I am picking and choosing and searching up all these characters. I didn’t know jack shit about felix faust before a few days ago. Do I really care? No. that’s just how this is gonna be. So please don’t come after me with all types of BS over the usage of these characters.
> 
> This is hella AU, and I am pulling from DC Comics, Young Justice, and my own mind for this final arc. That is all. 
> 
> The lovely BrighteningLight drew Rowan and the fanart can be find on my Tumblr page! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, I’m sorry for the wait, and please REVIEW.


	48. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry. I just.
> 
> Geeze guys, I guess I was just going through writers block? It’s a lot of things. One part of it is that I’m not an end writer. I love writing beginnings, and build but, but everything else? Gah, Im shit at it. On top of that, I have to be in these MOODS to write. It’s a flow, and I just… Hadn’t been feeling it. This is bits and pieces I’ve had written, and some new material I wrote tonight. I have to get up in about four hours, but I really, really wanted to get this out. I was finally feeling something, and ya know? I wanna finish Multifarious. It’s hard, because I don’t feel like this story is good enough. I don’t feel like it has a good plot, or that the writing is up to par, and it’s hard to write when my self esteem as a writer and my faith in my story is low but… I do still enjoy this. And that’s what matters. There are a few chapters left, and I’ve actually got most of the last chapter written. We are almost to the end. So thank you, and I’m sorry for the wait. 
> 
> Warnings: Underaged Sexual Situations, M/F, M/M

It happened fast, and maybe that was how he knew it was real. There was no time to think during, and hardly any time to even breathe, but it happened, and like most things, it had a very real consequence.

 

Unlike most things, however, he hadn’t had time to really think through said consequences before Rowan’s Mom had rained hell down upon them with two very simple, very unassuming words.

 

No, when he’d arrived at Rowan’s house on a Saturday, just after noon with Damian in tow, he hadn’t been thinking of anything remotely related to Rowan _or_ her Mom at all. Really, he’d been so distracted by the other things going on in his life that he hadn’t really paid attention to where Damian had dragged him off to until he was halfway up a flight of stairs with the smell of vanilla cake shoved up his nose.

 

Internally, he blamed the fact that he’d been so incredibly out of it on his low coffee intake for the day. Externally, he tried his best to pretend like he hadn’t completely tuned out everything except for what he needed to do to figure out what the hell was going on with his team out in San Francisco.

 

“Damian? Not to be a buzz kill or anything, but if you actually started showing up at school more often, you’d realize that Rowan probably has homework to do and doesn’t need us bothering her right?”

 

Translation: I love our girlfriend by why are we here when here when Lian is currently unresponsive with blacked out eyes and we could be doing something about that.

 

The younger man didn’t even bother with pretenses as he opened the door to Rowan’s home without knocking and strode straight towards her room.

 

“She does her homework at lunch and Father said that I need to decompress before we head out tomorrow.”

 

Translation: Bruce noticed that I’ve been freaked out that our friends are in trouble too and has decided to ban me from active duty until it’s time for us to go back to the Titan’s.

 

Tim opened his mouth, but closed it once more as Damian twisted Rowan’s door knob and, once again, walked straight in without any kind of warning. Both of them stopped when they realized that since her Gran was downstairs manning the shop, and her Mom was at work, then the only reason they had made it all the way to her room without being greeted or yelled at was because she was asleep.

 

Voice much quieter than it had been, Tim moved to stand beside Damian and crossed his arms.

 

“How long do you think she’s been asleep?”

 

Damian shrugged, and looked thoughtful for a few seconds before he spoke.

 

“She was up when we got done speaking to Father and we talked for a bit after I told her you and I would be going out of town for a while.”

 

“What did she say about that?” Tim asked, slightly anxious.

 

He wasn’t sure how long they’d need to be gone, and the last time they’d left for extended periods of time… Had not gone well. Still, after speaking to Bruce last night, they had no choice.

 

After obtaining the information at Liz’s party (And subsequently being accused of inappropriate behavior and given a lecture on why using civilians like Rowan wasn’t okay), they’d received startling news from the Titans. With the way things had been going in their personal lives, he and Damian had been based from Gotham for the past few months. With the recent instillation of Zeta Tubes into Titan’s Tower, their staying home hadn’t really been an issue.

 

However at this point, after finding out that Lian had fallen in a fight gone wrong, it was evident that the team needed to stay together. There where… Unsettling patterns forming from what Tim had gathered after looking at data from recent missions. There had been too many magic users causing issues lately, and if he was right, then whatever had been cast on Lian was part of something bigger. Something that they’d need to stand together to fight.

 

Tim had known he needed to go right off the bat, but Damian had taken his own time to think it over. Eventually, it had been the knowledge that Lian was in the most danger at the moment that had cemented his decision. The two had been close, and while their relationship couldn’t be the same, Damian still valued it, in his own way. She was his friend, and despite anything else he was, Damian was nothing if not loyal.

 

So they would go, and they would stay, and they would fight through this. With that in perspective, he thought that it was actually good that they were visiting Rowan.  

 

If Bruce truly wanted Damian to calm down, then Rowan was the one to do it, and they needed to be with her before they left. He needed to be with her. This time, there would be no misunderstandings.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Damian hadn’t wanted to come at first. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to see her, but rather… He didn’t want to deal with the way she made him feel. Not right then.

 

He’d always been able to tell when something important was about to happen; when a storm was approaching just beyond the horizon. He could simply _feel_ it, and he needed to be ready. He needed to stand tall, with a clear mind and be ready for whatever came his way. He needed to be prepared to do whatever it took. He needed to be steady, solid in his state of both body and mind.

 

And Rowan…

 

Rowan made him soft. Even standing there, looking at her curled up on her side in her mass blankets and other odds and ends made his body relax and his mind switch off track.

 

But, it was for the reasons that he had wanted to stay away that he came. His father had told him to center himself, and decompress. Despite wanting to leave immediately, and make whatever wrong doer who had hurt the Titan’s fix what he’d done and pay for his crimes, Damian could see the merit in the elder hero’s demand. He may not have always listened to his Father’s requests, but that did not mean he didn’t respect them. In this one, he had seen the benefit of going in with more than a one track mind, and so he’d listened.

He had called it an allowance. Alfred had called it personal growth.

 

Whatever it was, it had gotten Damian to where he was, and he’d make the best of it.

 

Crouching, he finally answered Tim’s question.

 

“She just said okay, and to be safe.”

 

To this day, he still thought about the last time he’d been away. He thought about the distance, and the wedge it had driven between them. He thought about the things she kept from him, like the brush with danger he’d allowed her to get away with not telling him about. He thought about the sound of her tears. He thought about her fear.

 

He thought about how he’d almost lost her.

 

He thought of these things, and vowed to never let any of them occur again.

 

“Habibi…” he whispered, bringing his hand to brush against the soft freckled skin of her cheek.

 

Almost immediately, her entire body jolted and she lurched away from him, eyes snapping open, gaze wild for a few seconds before she realized who he was, and she slumped.

 

“…the fuck…” she slurred, still very obviously not fully awake despite her shock.

 

Sometimes, her sleep patterns simply astounded him, which was really something considering his other lover had a habit of going on 72 hour binges powered by nothing but coffee and what Damian suspected where legitimate bags of pure white cane sugar. At this point Damian was actually almost sure Tim didn’t even use it in his coffee; he just ate it by the spoonful.

 

“We just came to visit,” Tim soothed, amusement clear in his voice.

 

Squinting at them, Rowan screwed up her face before letting the expression drop  and turning over on her opposite side.

 

“’Kay,” she sighed, breathing evening out on the same breath into the steady patterns of sleep once again.

 

Rolling his eyes, Damian let her be, situating himself on the floor with his back to her bed. In that position, he was facing the wall that was still covered in their handprints, and with Rowan’s heat radiating just behind him, that was enough.

 

“Uhh… So are we just going to wait here until she wakes up?” Tim questioned, still standing.

 

Damian let one eyebrow rise, and he tilted his head up to give the blue eyed man a droll stare.

 

Honestly, sometimes for someone so bright Tim was utterly… Dim.

 

“Tt,” Damian clicked,” what else are we supposed to do?”

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Rowan woke up at 12:46, snatching her glasses on out of routine, completely groggy, and with the very tempting thought of going right _back_ to sleep. Still, brief as her response had been, she knew her boys where over and she did want to spend some time with them before they left.

 

The last real outing she’d had with them had been… Weird. She honestly didn’t count it as something for the three of them, since they’d been on a mission, she hadn’t felt like herself all dressed up and painted, and the end of the night had felt like some surreal sort of dirty dream.

 

Basically the entire trip had been a night of revelations and confusion all at once, and she wanted something more substantial before they were off to save the world… Or SanFrancisco. Whichever.

 

So, she decided to roll her ass on out of bed and maybe shove some bad TV and cookies down their throats before they left. She’d been up at the crack of dawn baking for the shop anyways, what was a few more minutes to make something she could personally enjoy?

 

Still, Rowan was so disoriented from her short nap that it took her a few minutes before she noticed one crucial fact: Damian and Tim where making out right beside her. She felt stupid for a minute, because how had it taken her _that_ long to notice?

 

Very quickly, however, Rowan’s despair at her own obliviousness morphed into a heavy embarrassment that had her face quickly heating, twisting, and turning away to bury into her blankets.

 

She tried her best not to stare at them, but she just couldn’t help herself. She lasted all of thirteen seconds, and she told herself that it was the lack of oxygen that had her lifting her head.

 

Tim was turned away from her, head tilted slightly, Damian’s hand fisted in his hair. There was the quiet, wet sound of mouths opening and closing that alerted her to the fact that they were probably using tongue. While that may have disgusted her normally, they made a _very_ pretty sight.

 

 

She could see the sweat slicking the back of Tim’s neck, which told her that they’d probably been at it a while, and she had the insane urge to run her fingers through the damp locks. As she observed them, Tim moved his own hand to cup the back of Damian’s head, as the darker boy kept his locks too short to fully grasp. He used his hold to tilt Damian’s head back, giving Rowan a truly exquisite view: Damian, eyes closed and lips red and swollen. Rowan sat entranced as he used the new position to nip down Damian’s neck.

 

Damian, to her surprise, let out a soft whine that in turn, had her sucking in a sharp breathe. She felt like a pervert watching such a sensual scene, and she wanted to get up and go somewhere else, preferably somewhere that had a zero percent population of sexy boys that made her tingle in places she didn’t want to think about.

 

Gulping, she tried her best to get up without alerting them of her presence. Because honestly? Interrupting a scene this beautiful would be a damn shame. Trying her best not to make too much noise, Rowan sst up and began to gently slip forward and off her bed. Just when she thought she was home free, however, a throaty voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

 

“We went through all this trouble to put on a show for you, and you’re not even going to stay to watch.”

 

Rowan tried her best not to squeak and turned to see Damian, head tilted back onto the edge of her bed to look at her, pinning her with his emerald eyes. Even worse, Tim was angled up from his place at Damian’s neck to look at her as well.

 

Her throat felt dry, and she couldn’t seem to force any words out.

 

Knowing _damn well_ what he was doing to her, Damian reached out with a smirk. His hand was by her thigh, palm up, asking without asking. Demanding without the demand. She felt frozen in place, eyes wide, and mouth open but unable to produce the appropriate response.

 

The club had been the last time she’d touched either of them in a way that was anything more then platonic. Then, it had been easy to get caught up. It had been easy to get lost, for everything to feel dreamlike.

 

Now… It was all too real.

 

“Ro?” Tim began, “ you don’t have too-“

 

“I know!” she cut home off, voice pitched high.

 

Both boys seemed startled, with Tim’s ears tipping red, and Damian’s brows rising, so Rowan cleared her throat, and tried to speak more normally.

 

“I… Know…”

 

And she did. She knew she didn’t _have_ to do anything.

 

What scared her is what she _wanted_ to do. _That_ she wasn’t sure about, because really… They needed to talk about it. Only, that was hard.

 

Sure, talking for them was important. It was vital, even… But talking about things like this? She didn’t even know how to approach the subject, especially when in normal moments, she was sure that kissing, and touching, and everything after where so far away that she didn’t need to worry about them.

 

Except when she did, and that was a novel thought. Things between them happened fast, and sudden, and before she knew it she was caught up and there was no _talking_.

 

 _‘We don’t talk about it,_ ’ she thought, _‘ it just happens and we just-‘_

“Rowan _enough_.­ Stop thinking,” Damian seemed to snap.

 

_‘-feel.’_

Rowan blinked, and decided to do what worked best when her brain was short circuiting around the two gorgeous boys who fate decided to throw her way.

 

She went on impulse.

 

That was how her hand ended up clasped in Damian’s, her knees framing his head as her thighs tucked under her, and her lips sealed to Tim’s.

 

What felt suspiciously like the words ‘Damn it’ was mouthed against her lips before Tim’s hand was gripping the back of _her_ head and _his_ tongue was in her mouth.

 

She knew he was usually careful with her, usually reserved and respectful… This time he wasn’t.

 

He hardly gave her time to try and keep up as his tongue stroked into her mouth over and over again, teeth nipping at her lips and hand forcing her closer and closer. She wasn’t complaining though, hardly able to get enough of his taste.

 

She was already breathing hard, puffing short breathes through her nose when she felt Damian shift, his hands coming up to cup her waist. She pulled away from Tim, slightly startled only to see Damian press a kiss to her sternum through her  T-shirt at about the same time Tim moved soft, pink lips to the edge of her jaw. Their combined efforts made her shiver, and a quick flash of heat pulsed through her body.

 

Damian’s fingers began to knead against her sides softly, and if she hadn’t been distracted by his opened mouth kisses down her torso, she would have been self conscious. As it was, all she could do was try and deal with the heat of his mouth against her stomach through her shirt.

 

She had no idea how, but the boys seemed to be working in tandem because before she knew it, she was on her back, shirt riding up, and her pajama pants riding ridiculously low. Flashbacks of the last time she’d been in such a position burned through her mind.

 

Tim wasn’t focusing on her anymore, as he’d worked Damian’s shirt of and was already at his belt, but Rowan didn’t mind because thick fingertips where dipping below her pant line and all she could feel where phantom fingers in her folds.

 

“Jesus…” she whispered, feeling like she was about to die a horribly beautiful death.

 

Then of course, Tim just about ruined it.

 

“Jesus isn’t my preferred name, but it’ll work.”

 

Her eyes, which had steadily been sliding shut, snapped open wide to see Tim with a cheeky grin.

 

“Timothy I swear if you try to start a pun war with me _right now_ I’ll-“

 

She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence before Damian showed exactly how he felt about them starting stupid shit while he was trying to get hot and heavy by biting her.

 

More specifically, by yanking both her pants _and_ her panties straight to her knees and sinking his teeth into the fleshy skin of her lower stomach, right where his words where displayed proudly on her skin.

 

It should have really hurt her, because he wasn’t gentle about it. She should’ve smacked him in the face, and told him she was going to buy him a teething ring to help with his issues.

 

Instead, it had her toes curling and her belly lurching because suddenly she knew _exactly_ what he was going to do.

 

Gasping, any foul comments she may have had where forgotten as she gazed stupidly down at him. He wasn’t even looking up at that point, instead choosing to…

 

Stare straight into her very naked, very expose nether regions. All at once she blanched, and tried to snap her legs shut but he was _right there_ and way too broad shouldered and fucking _Tim_ was looking too and she felt hot and cold all at once because she was most definitely _not_ prepared.

And then Damian’s head was buried between her legs, the short ends of his hair brushing the inside of her thighs as his plump lips mouthed hungrily at her own. Alarming as it all was, she was surprised to find the shot of fear and uncertainty that she felt ramped higher right along side her arousal. The choked gasp she released as his tongue slid between her folds was a fine mix of astonishment and pleasure all rolled into a mind numbing haze that had her back arching hard. 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Tim could’ve pinched himself, for how deep he thought he was in a dream.

He hadn’t planned this, and he wasn’t sure Damian actually had either. They’d simply been bored, and sitting there, and so why wouldn’t they have kissed a little? It had been harmless really, just a quick makeout session to pass the time. Rowan’s Gran was in the bakery, her Mom was at work, and she was sleeping like the dead anyways…

And then she woke up.

His first instinct had been to stop, but Damian hadn’t even seemed to contemplate that. In fact, he got all the more aggressive in his ministrations. Tim, of course, had needed to match him, and things… Spiraled from there. They spiraled _far_ out of his control.

Rowan, as always, had been sweet, and soft, and he’d wanted to devour her as soon as he’d gotten his mouth on her… And it seemed Damian had gotten the same idea.

Maybe even a _better_ one.

See, in the few seconds he’d gotten to process that, yeah, they were going to fool around with Rowan, a few scenarios had gone through his head. The two that where pure fantasy involved high heels. The two that where more plausible involved soft hands and even softer breasts.

Those, after all, had seemed like her comfort zones, with comfort being a realative term. If they could get her distracted enough, then she seemed to like it well enough when her breasts where touched and well, he did too.

Because Rowan had _amazing_ breasts. Incredibly soft, and probably among the most pliant flesh he’d ever touched, her breasts had overflowed from his hands in a way that still made him hard if he thought about it too long, and that had been added to his list of things he allowed himself to actively daydream about every now and again. Her hands, well… He just wanted her to touch him. He wanted to touch _her._

Before, she’d even let Damian finger her and Tim was man enough to say that he may have been a little bit jealous… And he was even more so now because while being able to get his hands between her legs had been something perverse that he’d been arguing with himself about, being able to _see_ her was something that had only lived in his deepest dreams.

And leave it to Damian to go straight into the out of bounds without a second thought, because currently Tim was watching his boyfriend lap at shockingly pink folds. The downside to having only been sexual with guys was this: Tim had never actually seen a real life vagina, so currently, he was fascinated. He took in every detail he could, noting how her skin darkened at her labia only to contrast with glistening pink as Damian spread her, and how it seemed she had trimmed her now dampened curls into a neat patch at her mound. She was cute, and gorgeous, and Tim… Wanted a taste.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

She knew something was wrong here, but her body was wound so tight that she could scarcely afford to release anything more than embarrassingly pitched whimpers. She found that soon every lap of his tongue against her pulled a responding rock from her hips between his hands, and even as his grip threatened to break the fragile bones beneath he allowed her movement. 

The pain, the pleasure, the confusion; it was all coming together in her mind in a frighteningly overdue way that lent itself to the desperate ache nestled low in her belly. The small string of almost there seemed to wind tighter and tighter, pulling her skin along with it so that soon the friction of her own clothes became too much. 

 

She wanted to take off the soft cotton T-shirt that suddenly felt like a sopping rag at her back, she wanted to rip off the bra that kept her too heavy breast confined and chaffed her aching nipples, she wanted to pull out her hair as it stuck to her face. 

Most importantly, however, _she needed to cum_. 

Her need was reflected in the way she abruptly slapped her hand onto the back of Damian's head, pushing him as if the motion could force his tongue any deeper into her still too empty core. 

Damian was a big guy, and very proportional, but his tongue just wasn't enough. She wanted, no _needed_ more. The slick of his saliva and her own juices was lovely, addicting even, but she was so _close_ and his tongue couldn't stretch her in the way she was craving. 

She needed, she needed, she needed-

Rowan only realized her distress at being so close to cumming without actually being able to get there had verbalized through troubled whines when Damian pulled away from his task with a wet 'smack’, and looked up at her with question in his eyes and a smirk so wicked it made her now empty hole clench without even being touched. 

"Rowan? What's wrong? What do you want?"

He was a bastard, he really was.

"Ngh… Damian, please…” she whispered, voice hoarse.

His smirk, if possible, only got worse.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I quite understand what you want from me,” he completely lied.

She knew he was lying not just because of the look on his face, but because he gripping her thighs, large fingers spread and thumbs massaging her outer folds as if to pull her back open any second.

It was making it really, really hard for her to think, let alone play his games.

“ _Dami_ ,” she practically hissed, getting far too close to desperate for her own liking.

 

“You have to ask for the things you want, Habibi.”

 

She was so. Damn. Close.

 

But she still couldn’t say it. She couldn’t ask him to slip his fingers into her pussy, and she had a feeling that if she tried to do it on her own, she’d get nowhere. She couldn’t ask, and the feelings in her body where going to kill her if she didn’t satisfy her own need for release.

 

So, instead of begging Damian like he probably wanted her to, she looked at Tim, who seemed to be grinding into Damian’s ass, and of course because she was a freak instead of just looking at him and asking with her eyes, she moaned at him.

 

Because damn, but he was flushed and getting off by dry humping their boyfriend and watching said boyfriend eat her out and that was _hot._

 

Evidently, he understood her anyways, because in the next few seconds warm, slender fingers where sliding into her body and her eyes rolled.

 

She barely heard Damian say something about ‘cheating’ before his wet tongue was circling her clit, and she was gone.

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

Miranda Chase generally saw herself as a reasonable woman, a caring mother, and a pretty easy going person.

 

This, of course, seemed to all fly out of the window when she got home from work early only to find her daughter’s two male best friends in her room. Now normally, Miranda would have been fine with this. The boys had been in her little girl’s life for some time, and she was thankful.

 

She was, because before they’d come, she’d been worried. Rowan was, and always would be, the most important thing in her life. She was light and her darkness, her moon and her sun, and Miranda would do anything for the small girl. She had done _everything_ to make sure she was happy, and healthy. Still, as she’d watched her daughter grow, she had realized that some things where beyond even a mother’s reach.

 

She’d had to learn that the hard way when, no matter what she’d tried, Rowan had remained withdrawn. At eight years old, the girl hardly slept, had very few friends, and getting her to speak was a miracle. Despite her youth and apparent happiness she was still… Sad.

 

Rowan had carried a sadness with her that Miranda had never known how to fix, but the boys had.

 

Damian Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne had been a curve ball, so to speak, a surprise. They’d appeared, and fit themselves into her daughter’s life like puzzle pieces no one had known where missing and Miranda could never thank them enough for that because they made her happy.

 

But, like most relationships where wont to do, they made her sad. And that too, had taken Miranda a long time to see. For all she did, and all she tried, Miranda couldn’t quite understand Rowan, though she loved her, and so often it took her a long time to see things she should’ve known all along.

 

That was why, when she’d caught wind of what had happened at her daughter’s last baseball game, she had said nothing. Pieces slowly came together, but still she wasn’t quite sure of the truth.

 

Because Rowan, her precious baby, would’ve told her had anything changed between her and the boys, wouldn’t she?

 

Miranda was sure that if something so catastrophic as having a crush or something of the sort _finally_ happened to her child, that the girl would have told her.

 

She was so entirely sure that Rowan would have told her, because she did not keep secrets. Rowan didn’t break rules, or do bad things, and she loved and trusted her family, so Miranda was sure.

 

She was so entirely sure that had anything, even something she herself should’ve known all along, had changed, that Rowan would’ve told her, and maybe that was why she was so hurt when she found Rowan on her back, halfway off her bed with Damian _licking_ at what could only be a Soul Mark at her lower stomach, obviously just having had his mouth _much lower_ , with Tim’s fingers between her legs _as well_.

 

Now, Miranda didn’t miss the second Mark on her daughter’s body, nor did she miss the brilliant colors shining off of Damian’s tanned skin for all to see. She didn’t miss the fact that Tim had his other hand down Damian’s pants either.

 

She missed none of this, and yet despite the way it made it _her_ feel, it all paled in comparison to the fact that her daughter was half naked and doing things of a sexual nature with her _best friends._

 

Miranda couldn’t even take pleasure in the utter fear she saw on every single one of their faces when she slammed the door completely open against Rowan’s wall.

 

She only needed to say two simple words.

 

“Get. Out.”

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 

If she’d ever been in true trouble before, Rowan would have realized the signs. As it was, her Mama’s passive aggressive behavior only clicks once her boys are gone, her Mama is glaring in a cold sort of fury, and she’s seated on the couch in her living room in dirty panties that are sticking to her saliva and cum covered cunt. Rowan felt disgusting even thinking that with her mother in the room, and she can feel the swirling pit of emotion opening up once more in her gut. This time, it’s not hurt that fuels it, but shame.

 

It evidently took five weeks for her Mama to actually say anything, but it takes five _seconds_ for the tall woman to _say_ something.

 

And it happens like this.

 

"You know the _only_ reason your ass isn't beat right now is because you've never lied to me before, right? I am giving you the benefit of the doubt here."

 

 

Rowan's Mama's  voice rang loud and clear, as did her message, and Rowan found her stomach quivering in response. Her Mama, she knew, thought Rowan had been hiding their relationship. She thought she’d been hiding it from _her._

 

 

Her Mama wasn't happy with her in the least, and that alone made Rowan feel more ashamed then anything ever could.

 

"Mama... I didn't lie..." she tried in vain to whisper, knowing not much would actually help her. 

 

"You didn't tell me the truth either! That might as well be the same damn thing now try and play with me one more time, little girl! I swear to god..."

 

She knew right then that nothing she could say would make the situation better, and she knew it because this wasn’t just anger at her for having done things with her boys. This was long, long buried pain.

 

Her Mama, of course, had called Gran up and given her a run down on what she’d found, and the older woman had decided to let her daughter handle the situation, but Rowan knew she was listening. She knew her Gran was listening, and she felt as if was wrong for what she was about to do, but she didn’t stop herself. What was a little more shame, when she already felt so low?

 

"Mama!" She finally cried, voice cracking as a bitter pain wracked through her body, and her eyes burned," who are you really mad at here?"

 

It was so, so cliche, and the very question in on itself was sad, but it was the only one she could ask. Textbook psychology questions aside, there was no other route to take. Her Mama knew the truth, and so did she.

 

" _Excuse me?"_

 

The older woman's eyes narrowed, but Rowan couldn't back down; she couldn't be silent. Not this time.

 

"Are you really so mad at me because I didn't bother to spell out who my Soul Mates where? Are you really mad that I'm with them? Or are you mad at _my Father_?"

 

For once, the ever mouthy Miranda Chase had nothing to say in response.

 

She'd shut her Mama up good and well, and even knowing she wasn't in the wrong here, Rowan did not feel victorious for her achievement.

 

She looked at the woman before her, stunned and with long felt pain and anger behind her eyes, and she felt sick.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered,” I’m sorry… But I won’t take it back. I-“ her thoughts where a mess, and she nearly crumbled under the weight of her mother’s pain,”-I can’t take it back. I know what happened, okay? I know what that did to you and… And I know what it did to me. It scared me. It scarred you, but it scared me. It had me scared for so long, and it still does, but I can’t live like that. Neither can you. Some things we just have to accept, Mama. Fate isn’t something we chose. Life happens as it does and it’s not that I didn’t tell you on purpose. I am still trying to figure things out, okay? _We_ are still trying to figure things out. I was never hiding anything. I was just letting them _be_ , because I couldn’t force things along. I can’t force any of the relationships I have to be more than they were meant to. I’m sorry if that hurt you, I am, but I can’t let my secondhand fear guide me. I can’t think my Soul Matches will turn out like yours did. In order to do that, I have to let things happen as they will. Going up to you when I wasn’t even sure what I was doing myself would’ve just made things worse.”

 

Her Mama didn’t respond for a long time, and Rowan thought that hurt more than any harsh words would’ve. Still, she did, eventually, speak.

 

"How did my Baby Girl get so smart?" her Mama said quietly.

 

Her eyes were tired, but Rowan thought that perhaps her shoulders looked just a little less weighed down.

 

Rowan griped her Mama's hand tight with knowledge that for as strong as she was, the woman was still just as fragile as anyone else.

 

"I didn't."

 

The rest of her response when unspoken.

 

_'I just learned from your mistakes.'_

 

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

By the time Rowan made her way to her room, she was quickly getting lost in her thoughts. So lost, in fact, that she almost didn’t notice her Gran’s slight form sitting on her bed, ankles dantily crossed.

 

In that second, Rowan’s entire body froze and her stomach almost seemed to crawl its way up through her esophagus. There was a few terrifying seconds of silence as Rowan stared at her Gran, taking in the woman’s calm appearance and the unrecognizable look in her hazel eyes. Her once dark hair had faded to a white and gray pattern, and though it was thinning, she kept the strands impeccably styled in her natural curls. Even at her advanced age, Rose Chase still sat straight and proud, looking down her aquiline nose to the world beneath her.

 

To put it simply, she was intimidating, and Rowan didn’t think she could stand to disappoint yet another loved woman in her life.

 

Before the tremble she felt in her soul could make its way through her body, however, her Gran did what she did best and soothed her in a few simple words.

 

“I’m not mad, love. Come here.”

 

And with that, Rowan found herself falling into her Gran’s open arms, and she buried her face in the woman’s soft blouse. The scent of honey and spice entered her nose, and Rowan simply breathed it in, allowing it to soothe her. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey kids, porn is hard. So are feelings. I tried.  
> I’m sorry for the quality, but I really did try.
> 
> Again, I’m sorry for the wait, and I hope you guys enjoyed it. I have no idea when I’ll be updating again, but I’m not giving up. We’ll get there. Eventually. 
> 
> I’d enjoy your thoughts, your headcanons, etc… I’ve got a tumblr too if anyone’s interested, and you guys can check out the awesome art people have drawn me there! If nothing else, the art just makes my heart melt. For real. I have the best readers in the whole damn world, I love yall.


	49. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait. I’ve decided to not force this, but I will say I have been writing. There are better chapters to come, and I won’t end up writing everything I had planned, but we will get to the end in time. Just bear with me, guys.

Damian had never been particularly shy. He did what he did and said what he wanted and generally, there was very little shame that came along with that. He doubted there ever would be.

 

Still, when Miranda Chase managed to stare him down through a four inch screen from thousands of miles away he was just a little bit uncomfortable.

 

That, of course, had less to do with having been caught between her daughter’s legs, and everything to do with the fact that as the older woman attempted to flay him with a look alone, all he could imagine was the sweet slick of Rowan’s pussy dripping onto his tongue.

 

Common decency said that he really, really should have felt every bit of the shame and repentance he was currently portraying perfectly to his girlfriend’s mother, but he couldn’t quite find it in him to feel it in the genuine way that he was sure his male Soul Mate was doing.

 

He _should_ have, and yet currently he was putting years of acting lessons to good use as he thought of the fact that if life was fair, he’d be finding his way back between his girlfriend’s thick thighs soon enough, and hopefully with a very different part of his anatomy.

 

He figured Tim would call him absolutely _shameless_ if he knew.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

Unbeknownst to anyone but the currently very distressed young man in question, Tim was actually having vaguely similar thoughts to that of what he considered his _badder_ half. Damian had to have that title, considering that Rowan was automatically his _better_ half.

 

She had to be, because in his mind the minutes of pleasure he and his devilish boyfriend had worked out of her body where nothing short of heaven.

 

With that in mind, Tim found that he was firm in his belief that his current inappropriate thoughts, even as he attempted to let Rowan’s Mom know just how _sorry_ he was, where all Damian’s fault. They had to be, because he had no other explanation as to why even though he was sorry Miranda had been the one to catch them, he _wasn’t_ sorry that they’d been caught.

 

On the contrary, Tim was so _not sorry_ , that every time he recalled the moment-which was any time he wasn’t busy trying to figure out what sinister thing was going on with his team-he got a hard on so quickly that he’d be light headed from the blood rush.

 

In fact, the very thought of getting caught in such a compromising position with his Soul Mates had him hotter without a single touch then anything he’d ever experienced in his life.

 

It was with a wave of mixed emotions that included shame, guilt, lust, and irritation that Tim Drake realized that he maybe, kind of, probably… Had an exhibitionist streak.

 

He wasn’t a prude, and he wasn’t completely sexually inept, but _exhibitionism_ wasn’t something he’d expected out of himself. Damian? Maybe. But himself? Never in a million years.

That, of course, was why it had to be _Damian’s fault._ He had no other explanation for what was evidently his newest kink.

 

Luckily for him, he had a slightly better one for Rowan’s Mom as to why _no one_ had told her they where dating her daughter.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

With her face set in a scowl her Mama had taught her at young age, visage one that left no room for nonsense and held just the hint of a threat, Miranda Chase listened to the two boys she’d had in her home since her daughter had decided on who her best friends would be.

 

She listened, and decided that what they were currently spewing was absolute shit.

 

Oh they both looked sincere as they apologized, for sure.

 

“Ms. Chase,” Damian continued, issuing her the respect he never had before by using the appropriate title, “we never meant to hide from you.”

 

“I’m really sorry if it seemed that way, we were just taking things slow and I guess it all got away from us,” Tim said, playing off of the Damian’s words.

 

 _‘God, they really do seem sorry,’_ she thought, taking in what little of their body language and tone that she could through her iPhone.

 

Her eyes flickered to Rowan who sat beside her, but she remained in what she liked to call her ‘hard ass’ mode.

 

“So it got away from you all so quickly that _somehow_ it was time for sex before I don’t know… Telling _anyone_ that y’all were even together?”

 

Miranda knew her words where dripping with the sort of angry sarcasm only mothers could use. It had irritated the hell out of her as a kid, and even more so as a teen, but she kind of delighted in the anxiety it struck into her daughter’s Soul Mates.

 

And yeah, that was weird of her to have to think about… But she supposed she’d known all along. It was in the way they interacted; it always had been.

 

She just hadn’t wanted to see that, and what Miranda Chase didn’t want to see, she simply didn’t.

 

She hadn’t wanted to see the reality of the hardship of her dreams. She hadn’t wanted to see how the man that was supposed to be her’s would never have her. She hadn’t wanted to see her Daddy’s approaching death when he’d gotten weak. She hadn’t wanted to see her life spiral down to the point of no return.

 

Hurt, bitter, emotionally scared, and all too human woman that she was, she hadn’t want to see her daughter achieving where she had failed.

 

But, like most things, she did not always get what she wanted. In this respect, though, she found that she was happier for it.

 

She had way too much bitterness to deal with, and way too much pain, but at the end of the day… No matter what she did or how she came off, she did love her daughter.

 

She loved Rowan with everything she had, in every way she could, and she knew that it wasn’t enough. She knew that her own Mama filled in where she failed, and now she knew that two rich kids who’d had the gall to get into her baby’s pants took care of all the parts she’d never quite understood.

 

“We are really, _really_ sorry. Things where just changing between us and it- it was really scary and fast and I guess… I guess we just figured you’d know, you know?” Tim scrambled, nearly mincing his words as Damian nodded along.

 

Sighing internally, Miranda fought to roll her eyes at the three excruciatingly embarrassed kids she was dealing with.

 

She loved her daughter, and she really couldn’t deny the girl anything that would make her happy, since she’d found that she couldn’t quite do that alone.

 

Miranda would do nothing to block or harm the relationship they’d formed, whatever it was that they were doing with it. As long as Rowan was content, so was she. One of them deserved that Soul Marked happy ending…

 

But Rowan would always, _always_ be her baby, and so she’d make the Wayne boys sweat until Jesus himself brought her black ass home.

 

“ _Do I know?_ ”

 

She delighted in the panic she saw on Tim’s face.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

After they hung up, Rowan felt that all too intense pressure release ever so slightly in her chest, because she could see that her Mama was finally appeased.

 

Still, as the woman went off on a tangent about rich kids and networking and a slew of anti upperclassism crap, Rowan could only chuckle in amusement because she knew that things still weren't quite right.

 

Like it or not, her Mama still didn't know everything, and Rowan was slowly coming to terms with the idea that when it came to her boys, two of the most important people in her life, that that her Mama never would.

 

It was a hard pill to swallow, but Rowan forced it down as her Mama turned to her, and she finally contributed to the conversation when her Mama finally cooled down.

 

“You know at least they’ll probably start taking you to more of those fancy dinner party’s. When I had those temp jobs being around all those fancy people was a pain, but I just bet name dropping one of those pretentious asses would get you _so_ much more scholarship money when you’re off to college, baby,” Miranda said, speaking on the necessity of connections.

 

“Mmm, I dunno about that,” Rowan replied.

 

 Rowan watched her Mama carefully for signs of fatigue from the night before as she spoke, “Ha, maybe you’re right. That’s probably just me thinking that the process is the same for what I do to try and get my studio running. I swear college wasn’t this complicated when I was trying for it.”

 

Smiling slightly, Rowan just shrugged. Her Mama had turned a conversation into a life lesson as only parents ever could. Like most children, however, Rowan didn’t think to much of it.

 

She had much bigger things on her mind, after all.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

Hours after what had been a hellish conversation of what was evidently Rowan’s Mama playing with them for the hell of it, Tim found himself pushed away from his relationship troubles and into more pressing issues.

 

Another of his friends had fallen, and this time there had been no fighting involved. With no visible threat or cause, no exhausted mind, and none of the battle specific ache in his muscles to tell him that he’d done all he could’ve, Tim felt lost.

 

Here, he was in control. He wore his suit as armor against all the troubles that came with being 19 year old Timothy Drake, adopted son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, Soul Mate of Damian Wayne and Rowan Chase. Red Robin was above the insecurity and mundane troubles of the boy beneath the mask.

 

When he sported his red, with the entire world at his disposal and lives resting in his hands, Tim felt an addicting sense of purpose and drive to succeed.

 

Yet as he watched Raven prepare to delve into the mind of one of his best friends as a last ditch effort, he was lost.

 

 

Almost unintentionally, Tim found himself holding his breath. No matter who was doing it, messing with another person’s mind always sounded like a dangerous affair to him. Sure he’d had communication links with Raven or Miss Martian, but nothing as invasive as what he was watching Raven attempt at the moment.

 

Her hands where laid gently on Bart’s temples, and though both of their breathing remained steady, Tim stared into Bart’s glossy black eyes and felt his heart beating double time. He couldn’t show it, but inside he was experiencing more than a healthy dose of fear.

 

His heart felt smothered in the heavy, dark feeling, his mind screamed for answers he didn’t have, and a bone deep tiredness set in even as Raven’s serene expression darkened, and he saw that they were closer to an answer then they had been before.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

Two weeks later, in the middle of the night, Rowan learned the truth in her Mama's impromptu lesson, because when you're kidnapped in the middle of the night, it turns out connections are _everything_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is not super edited, lmao
> 
> Anyways, School is all started up for me, and this is gonna be a hard semester. Also, I will be going into a hard school load for the next year and a half, but I will write when I feel it. I can’t promise anything, but for the fact that I’ll finish. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	50. Intermission: Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so fucking sorry guys. I want to start off by saying THANK YOU to anyone still reading, and apologize for this long wait. This is the longest wait any of you have experienced for my story, and I really wish it hadn't happened. I will say that not only did I get a job in February, but school has been coming down on me. I work, I've struggled with some classes, and I've just been worn out over all. On top of that... I just haven't been feeling writing. I get out on June 8, but I'll be working all summer, as well as taking an online class. I should hopefully finish this then, though. 
> 
> Still, I'm very sorry. This isn't long, and it isn't actually what I've been working on in these four months. I have been writing, though not very much. This is a sort of a necessary piece, but more of a concession and a promise for a longer chapter tomorrow. I'm sorry, and I hope to be posting very very soon. I do have finals in about four days, though, so I'm struggling. 
> 
> This is actually a piece I wrote a long time ago that was supposed to go in around chapter 20 or so. It's just a fluff bit that can be inserted anywhere along the timeline in the frame where our three nerds officially 'got together'. It can be considered 'canon' I suppose?

Damian knew he and Tim had a bit of a history between them, it was kind of hard to ignore. They'd fought since the second they'd met, and he knew even their words betrayed that fact. Though their repertoire had often been vicious, it has softened to more of a mild sting over the years. Despite this, however, Damian still expected their first date to end on a sour note.

By no means did he hope for this, of course, but things between him and the older always did seem to go south rather fast. No matter what Tim said, however, Damian knew that their date wouldn't be ruined by this because of one simple fact: they both enjoyed their back and forth. Whether that was wrong or not was of no consequence to Damian.

So, it was safe to say that when their date ended with them _holding hands_ , of all things, Damian was more than a little surprised. He was also so completely _screwed_ because he had the sinking feeling that if he could feel anything close to love, what he felt for Tim might have been it.

And it was maddening.

When he asked Tim, it wasn't eloquent, or even up to par with his usual sarcastic bite. No, instead he'd probably uttered the most uncoordinated sentence his superior mind had ever concocted.

"Ice cream. Do you want to get some?

Tim had looked at him like he'd grown a second head before snapping out of whatever stupor he'd fallen into.

"Is this your way of asking me out on a date?"

Damian had almost responded with 'no, of course not'. Then his conscious, which suspiciously sounded a little bit like a mix between Dick, his Father, and Rowan, got the better of him.

"Yes, Tim. I am."

He'd expected Tim to say no after watching the older boy burst into a fit of laughter. He'd been pleasantly surprised, however.

"Well, I guess this is the best I'm going to get. If you promise to behave, then yes, I'll go out on a date with you."

"Good," was all he'd replied before walking away.

Tim had been sitting alone in the common area of the Tower, and so they'd remained fairly quiet for the most part. When Damian was at the door, however, Tim raised his voice so that he'd be heard.

"You forgot to agree to behave."

Damian was not one bit apologetic when his voice dropped all on its own and he caught Tim's azure eyes with his own green ones.   
"I didn't forget," he said, letting his eyes roam lazily over Tim's form," I just don't see the point in agreeing to something I have no intention of doing."

Then, with a smirk he knew to look absolutely sinful, he left the room. A feeling that seemed to be a cross between lust, satisfaction, and and a warmth that was all Tim dominated his psychological plane. Damian had never been more glad for the lessons he'd taken with one Miss Carrie Kelly, because that look was the product of all of her hard work.

He'd once heard Rowan utter a phrase when she thought he wasn't listening, and at the moment he couldn't agree more. His face game really _was_ bomb as fuck.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm so sorry and I hope to be back soon. I know it's not much at all, but we should be back to the main plot soon. Thank you for all your support, and just know I love love love hearing from y'all. Talk to you soon <3


	51. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen. So I keep trying to write for this, and like working on later chapters instead of the chapter that needs to be written next lmao. And by later chapters I mean the last chapter… Because I’m trash. But with that said… I think if I play my cards right, there are only 2-3 chapters after this one.
> 
> A while ago I got a review calling out my shoddy character development and I guess my tendency to have weird sentence flow? I acknowledge that and say that this has been a learning experience. Now I know better for next time... I will say that sentence structure wise, though, I have a tendency to write complex sentences that are also stylized. So while I want to work on my characterization and story flow, my sentences probs wont change. 
> 
> I’m sorry for the wait babes, so without further ado….

Theoretically, she knew that if a couple of teenage boys could get into her room without breaking a sweat, then superhero or not, chances where others could get in too. Still, she'd placated herself with the idea that she didn't really have anything anyone would want to go through such lengths to obtain.

 

She lived in a _bakery;_ anyone with half a brain could figure out that all they were going to get from her would be a sugar overdose and maybe some freaked out screaming. She was pretty nonthreatening, and while she and her family lived comfortably, they were still close enough to that poverty line in a big city like Gotham to not attract too much attention. In a city of thousands, Rowan was insignificant and she had nothing more to fear then the average citizen (which was still enough, but livable.)

 

It turned out, however, that for all of her shrewdness, Rowan was just as naive as any other teen when it came to life's whims.

 

She was naive as hell, that was apparent, but at the moment she could only think one thing as she laid paralyzed, eyes covered and world shrouded in darkness.

 

_'I am so fucking stupid.'_

She hadn't quite been asleep when it happened, but at midnight, when she'd been upside down, head hanging off of the edge of her bed as she attempted to talk the ever rowdy Lucy into _going the hell to sleep because you have school tomorrow and you’re driving your poor aunt crazy_ , she’d been in no position to fight back.

 

She had, however, been just sharp enough (Read: More than a little paranoid about such things since her rather _electrifying_ drop all those months ago) despite the sleepy droop of her eyes to notice the shifting of shadows in her small room, and just fast enough to shift her goading into a careful phrase she didn’t think she’d ever use.

 

“Anyways Luce, my phone battery is dying so will you do me a favor and tell Tim that I can’t go and see him tomorrow?”

 

Generally speaking, Rowan figured that waiting to kidnap someone was like hunting. You had to wait until everything was just right before you went in for the kill. It could take a while, but once you had that perfect opening, all you had to do was act.

 

With everyone in her home asleep, her room darkened, and her own specific Robin issued life alert bracelet _not_ on her person, the only thing that needed to happen was for her to get off the phone and leave them an opening.

 

With one simple comment, she gave them that opening.

 

With one simple sentence, unbeknown to anyone but the girl in question and the one she’d been on the phone with, Rowan also sent out her very own S.O.S.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

See, in context, that simple sentence made no sense considering that not only did Lucy not know Tim beyond what Rowan herself may have mentioned of him, but it was a well known fact that anytime Rowan was on the phone, she either had more than fifty percent battery, or it was plugged in. Rowan was very particular about that because she hated when she needed her phone and it died on her, and Lucy had seen her getting twitchy when her battery dropped too low more than once.

 

So of course, when her friend suddenly went silent for a few odd seconds, and then disconnected the call, Lucy was more than a little worried.

 

And when Lucy was anything _but_ happy, then she was going to let everyone around her know. After all, if she wasn’t having fun, what was the point of _anything_?

 

There wasn’t one, of course, and so with a pout, Lucy called back… And then she called again… And again… And when she continued to get no answer, Lucy called a different number.

 

Lucy felt a sort of urgency of course, but she wasn’t quite panicked for her friend. Whatever trouble Rowan was in, Lucy knew just how to get her out of it.

 

This time, when the phone went to voicemail she wasn’t bothered. That particular number always went to voicemail, but that was okay. She always got her answer one way or another.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Talia Al Ghul was many things: a warrior, an assassin, a seductress, a spy, and the list would go on. As it went, one would generally find that each title held a distinct connection to the last, for nothing in her life was ever a coincidence, and even fewer things could be said to exist purely for their own merit.

 

She was a pristine example of what years of dedication, training, and an unwavering goal could do to a person. She stood tall, forged from fire and blood and she had done many unsavory things to get there, and she was hard pressed to say she regretted any of it.

 

Regret implied guilt, unsteadiness, indecision, or a mix of the three and all where things she couldn’t afford to feel. So, with a hardened heart and thick skin, she simply chose to be above such things. Her hands where drenched in blood, and many sins would weigh her soul for as long as she lived, but she would never regret any of it because she truly believed in her cause.

 

She truly believed, above all else, that she was right in her actions, in her aspirations.

 

Yet, despite her convictions, when one reached the end of the list of things Talia Al Ghul was, there could be found a weakness. She was not _weak_ , however, for no one could ever call a woman of her caliber such a thing, but she was something that in certain situations she found to be much worse…

 

She was a mother.

 

Talia found it curious that the role seemed to bring her as close to _regret_ as she’d ever gotten , especially since all things considered, motherhood was the part she had the least proficiency in among all of her achievements.

 

That, of course, was as close as she’d ever let herself be to failure, and she was only able to admit such a thing to herself as she gazed upon the slackened face of young woman that she most likely was never meant to meet.

 

Rowan Chase was a small, soft girl whose arms held smeared ink, hair held an untamable wildness, and figure left much to be desired. Her face, though, was home to an unshakable innocence, and her entire life represented every part of the son Talia wasn’t sure she’d ever know.

 

That knowledge brought a cold, dark feeling deep within her, and it was worsened by the fact that she couldn’t simply get rid of the object of her ire. See, that was where the almost weakness bled through the cracks of her hardened skin.

 

Talia had done many things, and she would do many more, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to sever the loose end that was her son. She hurt him, though it was for his own good, but she could never break him. She would never kill him.

 

Taking away his Soul Mate, no matter how lacking she personally found the girl, would do those things. Killing Miss Chase would create an irreparable hole in her son’s heart, and as someone who held one such hole already, she did not wish that on her offspring.

 

The will to do so, however, remained and grated against the knowledge that she could not, and while she stood tall her mind warred with itself.

 

She was not weak, but she _was_ a mother.

 

 _‘Where is the difference?’_ was what rang through her mind. She desperately needed to find it.

 

Slowly, Rowan seemed to regain movement in her limbs, previously immobile body moving stiffly as she sat up. It took her much longer to gain an appropriate range of motion than Talia thought appropriate given one in her position, but eventually she jerkily tore off her blindfold. The girl gasped as soon as she caught a glimpse of her surroundings, and she curled in on herself. When Rowan caught sight of Talia though, she froze, and Talia couldn’t help but wonder…

 

  
_‘Why you?’_

 

Talia had always kept tabs on Damian, though she could admit that such things had gotten slightly harder over the years, which of course only brought her a sense of pride. Still, it could be done.

 

It had to be done if she wanted to watch her son grow; if she wanted to see him live… And despite how much she tried, that was something she always wanted. Her boy, her _prince_ was the weakness she’d given herself, and no matter what she did, she could not rid herself of him.

 

So she watched, she listened, and she retained every detail of Damian Wayne’s- _Al Ghul_ , her mind whispered- life. She saw his exploits, his struggle with brutality and control, and the pain he harbored. Pain that she’d contributed too.

 

Pain that she would never take away, because it made him stronger. Bruce would never admit it, but the Batman was powerful because of the pain and darkness that made a home in his soul, driving him to greatness. That was the secret of the Wayne bloodline, and one she’d unlocked for her Prince, because he’d need it to be the best.

 

She _needed_ him to be the best. Even if he refused to see her way, to walk the path she would have chosen for him. All things considered, she should have stopped trying to push him towards perfection once she realized that he would not join her, which was the moment she’d given him over to his father, if she thought back on it.

 

Yet she couldn’t. Despite everything, he would always be hers, and so she would never stop trying to make him the best he could be.

 

Even if he hated her for it.

 

Somehow, she knew that once he found out that she’d taken his most vulnerable Soul Mate into her protection, he wouldn’t see things her way and that hate would flourish.

 

Because of where she stood; her place on the wrong side of that blurred line that Damian and the family he’d chosen saw fit to draw, she was able to see things they could not. A unique position that had its uses, to be sure, and it was because of this that when a spell was cast, silent in its viciousness, she was among the first to react.

 

While she was no sorceress, she knew the truth in mysticism, and she knew just enough to be weary of its capabilities. She was also just lucky enough to see the truth of the spell’s intentions.

 

Yes, she was aware that what she was experiencing was _luck_ in the situation, because loath as she was to admit it, even she could not control everything, and this was out of her reach.

 

But, while she could not control, she could guide.

 

While she was not the mother Damian may have wanted, she was his mother none the less, and all she’d ever done was guide him, so she knew she could do something now.

 

Like it or not, as she watched Rowan’s every twitch, prepared to prevent any type of lethargy from pulling her under a vindictive spell’s haze, Talia did what she always did.

 

She comforted herself on that her actions had been the correct choice, and made no apologies.

 

Rowan said nothing, and Talia couldn’t say that she was surprised. The girl seemed timid, and everything she’d learned about her had done nothing to overturn that fact. Talia did know that quiet did not always mean dim, though, and there was something in her dark eyes that told Talia to pay close attention.

 

Knowing well the waiting game between a lioness and her prey, Talia decided that she’d keep her claws sheathed for now, just until Rowan made her move. It was slow going, but she stayed in place, letting brown eyes study her. Talia could tell the exact moment Rowan recognized who she was, and she was pleased to see that it didn’t take as long as she’d thought it was. Rowan’s following question delighted her more.

 

“Why am I here?”

 

Talia relaxed her body, twisting her lips into a warm smile, bemusement melting across her features.

 

“Ah, finally awake? I was afraid you wouldn’t come to, what with all the trouble a certain few have been having lately… But I wanted to meet you, of course,” Talia lied, letting the words flow off of her tongue.

 

Pulling on the persona of the expectant, curious mother came easier to her then the actual role, but then again wearing the face of another had always been her forte. Damian, she remembered, had encountered a bit of trouble playing parts, and idly she wondered if he’d gotten any better.

 

She wondered if she asked the girl before her, what kind of answer would she get?

Rowan’s lips pierced for a second and Talia watched lighting quick thoughts move across her face, finding that while the expressiveness made what she needed to do easier, that it was a dangerous fault to have.

 

Finally, her features smoothed into something more guarded.

 

“Why?” she asked, never letting her tense body relax.

 

“I simply wanted to get to know one who my son keeps in such close company,” Talia replied smoothly. She could’ve told the truth, but then that wasn’t the game they were playing.

 

And when Rowan spoke next, Talia new that their interaction was indeed a play of strategy.

 

“I think,” she said, voice becoming unexpectedly sharp, “that if you wanted to get to know your son then you would have kidnapped _him_ instead.”

 

She was straight to the point, and revealing a lot of steel in the face of someone who she probably knew now held her life in her hands. She could have been suicidal, for all Talia was aware.

 

_‘Or perhaps this is why Damian likes her.’_

“Kidnapped? I simply borrowed you for a bit,” Talia pushed.

 

“You don’t borrow a person, Miss Al Ghul.”

 

Talia made sure her smile was disarming as she moved closer to the girl, but all Rowan did was reel back and narrow her eyes.

 

“My dear,” Talia smiled as she slipped a hand under Rowan’s chin, noting the flinch,” when necessary, you do whatever you must.”

 

Talia knew she’d put Rowan in a difficult situation; one where their game was a dangerous one and the prize was most certainly her life. Talia had made no overt threats, but if Rowan was smart, and Talia had a feeling that she was competent at the least, then she would know what was at stake. Soul Mate or not, Damian didn’t need a weakling dragging him down, and Talia would not allow such a thing.

 

Seconds ticked by, and in them Talia could practically see thoughts in Rowan’s wide eyes, yet she found that she could not decipher their meaning. Eventually, though, she could feel the girl’s jaw clench, and she saw a sort of fire and finally, finally she realized that Rowan Chase was going to show her what she was made of when she opened her mouth and-

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

“What needed to be done so badly that you had to break your own son for it?”

 

Their marks let the world know that her boys where fire and ice, and over the years she’d learned why. Tim could be cold and calculating, burning those around him with his own specific chill and he was that way simply because life shaped him to be.

 

Damian, though, was a combination of careful planning, power, and legacies come to meet and everything he was, he’d shaped from what he’d been given. But his flame?  His _fire?_ That had come from his Mother, and despite the years Rowan had spent with them, that was something she’d learned _today._

 

What drove her words, however, was a long ingrained trait of her own, because for all of her bad and good experiences with Tim and Damian, with all of her brushes with fire and ice, it turned out that she really liked that burn.

 

She could simply find no other reason that as she sat god knows where, she poked at a woman who cradled her jaw with beautifully hidden claws in a mockery of tenderness. If she wasn’t careful, flesh could easily tear and there was not telling if said flesh would be at her jugular, or at her heart.

 

“What was so necessary that you needed to _abuse_ your son? That you needed to hurt his friends, his family, and try and take everything he cares about to use against him?”

 

Cool faced without a flinch, Talia was the epitome of poise but Rowan felt those sharp, sharp claws slip beneath her skin in warning of a fury that would demolish her should it be unleashed.

 

“How dare you speak of that which you don’t understand?  What I have _done_ is make him strong. What I have _done_ is make him better. What I have _done_ is make him _who he is today_ ,” Talia hissed, face never changing but grip physically becoming more and more uncomfortable,” I am his mother, and I have shaped him into the boy you know. Any feelings you may harbor are for what _I_ have made. You have no right to question that, and you need to learn your place, Little Girl.”

 

Heart hammering, and fear bubbling in the pit of her stomach, Rowan poked at a snake knowing it was ready to bite.

 

“I understand enough; I understand you love him,” she admitted.

 

Rowan would never truly know why Talia had done all that she did, this was true, but for now she knew _enough._

 

“You hurt him, though. You hurt Damian, and I love him for who he is, but _love does not excuse pain._ ”

 

Rowan had learned that the hard way, and she would not meet whatever fate Talia had planned for her without letting the woman know that truth.

 

This time, when Talia’s grip tightened, Rowan’s breath caught and she could feel the beginnings of bruising as she was pulled forward.

 

“What do you know of _love_ and _pain_? You have spent your life doing nothing as no one, coddled by your women. Every insignificant breath you’ve ever taken has been easy won, and you will _never_ know the pain of true struggle. You are a pawn in a greater game, and it’s best if you learned your place,” Talia all but hissed.

 

Right then, Rowan wasn’t sure what she was going to say. Talia _wasn’t wrong_ …. But she wasn’t right either. And as she struggled for the words to say what she felt, Rowan found that she was eventually saved from the task by a very unexpected person.

 

Or more specifically, an ear splitting explosion that had Talia finally letting her go, only for Rowan to get knocked off balance and slammed into the ground by the backlash.

 

A dull ache started just behind her eyes, and Rowan found herself fighting complete disorientation as she turned to stare at the source of her current predicament. Dust floated through the air, clouding her vision but still allowing her to see that the one of the two doors in the room had been completely blown inwards. All around it, singe marks stood proudly against what was once probably well painted wall, and bits and pieces of used to be décor smoked.

 

And there, standing amidst the wreckage with blood staining her ridiculously large mallet, stood Harley Quinn.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Harleen Quinzel, for all of her mistakes, was a very smart woman. She was strong, cunning, and _yes_ , pretty damn crazy, but no one could say she was anything less than intelligent.

 

Still, some might have questioned her when she had stood in an old Gotham alley, just finishing a phone call that had her making a very interesting decision.

 

It had taken little more than one phone call from a high, young voice before Harley Quinn turned on her current companions with a bored look, and sauntered  towards the nearest. The painted goon was large, imposing, and dressed in a crude mockery of the Joker, but Harley barely spared him a second glance as she had walked passed him.

 

“Tell Mistah’ J that I’ll be back in a bit.”

 

Tossing back her mallet over her shoulder, Harley had headed out. She wasn’t worried about the consequences of her simply walking out for a while.

 

Yeah, she was currently going to steal a child from some misfortunate punk, and Yeah that child was probably under the protection of the Batman, but her baby had asked.

 

Her daughter had called, a little demanding but also a little bit scared, and had asked her Mommy to go and find her friend, so Harley would go and not a damn person could stop her, even if it probably was kind of a stupid thing to do.

 

Even more so when Harley had found out that the misfortunate punk was _Talia Al Ghul._

 

Damn it all, though, because though no one would ever call _her_ stupid, no one had ever exactly said she was _sane_ either _._

 

 _‘My Puddin’ won’t mind, anyways’_ she had told herself. He never did.

 

He never really seemed to notice when she left on her ‘errands’, either.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

In her trademark red and black body suit, and with her face painted chalk white, the woman made quite the picture. Rowan wasn't quite sure if she was supposed to be _afraid_ of that picture or _grateful._

 

Harley made that decision for her.

 

"Well hey there, Sugar Baby! I came all the way out here to get you and I can't even get a smile?"

 

She punctuated her words by walking up to Rowan, bending over, planting her hands on her knees, and pushing her face close with an unsettlingly large smile.

 

"Uh..."

 

_‘If this woman doesn’t kill me, and Damian’s mom doesn’t, then **someone** bat related is going to.’_

 

Rowan was torn between saying 'Thank You' or saying 'This is fucking insane and I really hope I'm dreaming'.

 

After another moment of thought, Rowan chose the one most likely to get her the hell out of there.

 

"Thanks, Miss Quinzel."

 

The woman's smile twitched, but didn't drop.

 

"Out here, it's just Harley."

 

Rowan's face screwed up as she realized her mistake, but Harley spoke over her attempt at an apology.

 

"Anyways, Aunty Harley brought ya a present!"

 

Straightening up with that manic glint back in her eye, she pulled at the bat that had evidently been strapped to her back and with her fingers loosely wrapped around one end, she let it swing towards Rowan.

 

Shocked, shaken, and all too tired, Rowan caught it with both hands, going to twirl it into proper position by muscle memory alone... only to nearly drop it as the weight shifted in an unusual way.

 

Staring at it bemusedly, Rowan gripped the chrome colored, black and red painted bat in both hands to study it. On first glance it had seemed normal, but upon closer inspection she noticed that it was much heavier than anything she'd ever used before, and most definitely _not_ made of the aluminum she would have expected.

 

"Uh Miss Harley..." Rowan said, thought process slow as she tried to piece together what exactly she'd been given and _why._

 

After a few seconds of silence, Rowan looked up and blinked at the fact that Harley was now halfway across the room, face poking through a small window. Before Rowan could ask, Harley had spun on her heel.

 

Behind them, the door that Harley had blocked had begun to make a rather distressing groaning sound, but Rowan really didn't have time to panic about that.

 

"It's weighted! I thought we could play a game!" Harley called just before she palmed a spherical object... and chucked it towards Rowan.

 

Startled, Rowan did the only thing she could think of and switched up her stance, bat falling into place just before she struck the baseball sized projectile.

 

That gave her a better answer then any worded explanation could on just what 'Weighted Bat' meant. While her swing had been off due to her lack of familiarity with the bat in her hands, it had still been good enough to send the dark ball back in Harley's general direction with _far_ more force than Rowan could ever muster on her own.

 

"Oh shi-"

 

The rest of Rowan's expletive was drowned out by the all too jarring sound of a sizable explosion.

 

Mouth dropping wide, Rowan barely registered Harley's following gleeful laugh as the woman raced over, and then proceeded to push Rowan towards the substantial hole in the wall they'd just made.

 

 _‘Yeah,’_ Rowan thought, ‘ _this is definitely going to be the day I die._ ’

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

_One, two, three, four...._

If left to choose the absolute worst moments of his life, Tim would be hard pressed to pick just a _few_.

 

That time he stayed up a week straight running on nothing but coffee and force of will?

 

His first serious injury?

 

His first encounter with the Joker?

 

The day he found out his Dad died?

 

The first time he killed someone?

 

_....five, six, seven, eight...._

The list could go on, and he would lose track of its beginning before he ever saw its end. It was a sad truth, but one he preferred not to dwell on. Even more than that, he preferred not to _add_ to it, especially since doing so generally left him down another friend, or missing yet another piece of his soul.

 

So Tim tried his hardest to keep things on track, and to prevent any tragedy that might come his way and add to the list. That was the job of a hero, after all.

 

Save the day, get the girl, and look good doing it. That was the plan, wasn't it?

 

(Not Really.)

 

Tim was 20 years old, and maybe when he'd been younger, with stars in his eyes and the idea stuck in his head that 'Batman Needed a Robin' and he could be that Robin, he would've believed that.

 

Maybe he _did_ believe that, once upon a time. Tim had believed in a lot of happier, idealized things once upon a time. But, unfortunately for him, his 'once upon a time' storybook start had long since passed, and he was left with the not so sweet middle part of his tale and had learned that life was less Disney, and more Brothers Grimm.

 

Rowan herself had told him that once, just a few years ago.

 

 _"You look like a horror show, Tim Cat,_ “she’d said to him one night, after he'd found his way to her after a particularly bad week. They'd been young, and he'd trailed after Damian straight from a fight, thinking it his responsibility to make sure the younger Wayne didn't find any more trouble.

 

Instead, they'd found their friend right where they'd left her: in her home, smelling like sweetness and looking like the home they hadn't yet realized they had needed. She let them get comfortable in ways Tim wasn't sure were smart, looking back on it, and they'd taken everything she had to give.

 

Her space, her food, and after noticing the stiffness in their limbs, her stubborn care.

_"Why is it that you two never come out all shiny and not hurt like superheroes are supposed to do,_ “she’d asked flippantly, her hands against the bruised ribs he'd been reluctant to bare. Alfred had already tended to him, but she'd insisted on checking by pulling his shirt up without another word. He hadn't protested, and she wouldn't have listened anyways.

_"My life isn't one of your stories, Ro,"_ he had told her.

 

She'd just smiled at him, her fingers slipping from abused skin.

_"It is if we count the Brothers Grimm."_

That day, Tim had shaken his head, and Damian had called her a fool.

 

On this one, Tim felt he'd dismissed her too soon, because she had been right.

 

Defying death and beating the odds where his norm, and fighting for justice had always been his goal, so he _did_ fit the hero archetype after all.

 

He certainly saved the day.

 

Sometimes.

 

See, hero or no, he did not win every battle. He may be fit, and young, and yes he knew well enough that he was not hard to look at, but the bags under his eyes betrayed fatigue and the color to his skin had less to do with a healthy flush and more to do with burst blood vessels.

 

And yeah, he'd gotten the girl... and the boy.... Eventually, sort of.

 

But of course, that was where he'd certainly failed as well.

 

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.... if he counted, Tim would find himself out of breathe as he listed his worst moments...

 

Especially since he found he needed to add one as he listened to Alfred's worried words, focusing in on one specifically.

_Missing._

 

_.....nine, ten, eleven, twelve...._

His friends where falling, his girl was gone, and beneath a crushing wave of fear and pain, Timothy Drake found that he did not feel like much of a hero at all.

 

_.....thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen...._

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

Connor would be the first to admit that he wasn't the most observant man, not by a long shot. The last few years with the Titans had taught him that he could be a little hot headed, a little cocky, and a tad insensitive... But he was trying.

 

He'd been trying when he found out _both_ Lex Luther and Superman where technically his father.

 

He'd been trying when Lex had given him that serum to boost his powers.

 

He'd been trying with Cassie.

 

He'd been trying with Tim.

 

He'd been trying, and trying, and trying, and trying and despite his best efforts... Sometimes trying wasn't enough. That's how he'd managed to drive a wedge further between himself and the man he looked to as a father. That's how he'd managed to go berserk and nearly hurt his team when he went to far with the serum. That's how he managed to break both his and Cassie's heart. That's how he managed to make things weird with Tim, barely realizing that the other boy had been head over heels for _two_ other people without even knowing it.

 

These mistakes had haunted him, and tried to ruin him but he had _learned_ from them. Part of being human, which was something Conner had tried so long to force on himself, was learning from one's mistakes... and so he'd resolved to be better.

 

That realization, of course, came only after he'd already accepted that he would never be completely human, but it was one he needed nonetheless. He'd never be a better human, not with the kryptonian in him, but he could be a better _person._

 

Part of being a better person, he'd found, also involved being a better friend.

 

That alone was what led him to observing Tim more closely after the red swathed hero got a particular call, and that was what allowed him not to feel so bad when he over heard the pretty much one sided conversation.

 

Lucky thing, too, considering that after realizing what Alfred's message could do to his friend, Connor decided to walk his way and offer his help. He didn't know Rowan personally, but he knew enough to know that she was not only an alright person, but his best friends Soul Mate.

 

That alone meant that he'd help Tim do whatever he needed, and the words where on the tip of his tongue right before he saw pitch black flash across Tim's eyes, just before the young man in question collapsed.

 

There was no warning, save for maybe the extreme fatigue and lack of rest Tim had been shouldering, and there was absolutely no explanation as to why he'd just gone down in the middle of the Justice Hall...

 

Just as there was no explanation for the large explosion that rocked the room not seconds after, or the grinning blonde decked out in red and black who stepped through the rubble.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyways I finished this instead of doing any of the work I really, really need done. Sorry for any mistakes, as I wanted to get this out ASAP. Im not sure when the next chapter will be up, but hopefully not another four months. Things are gonna get weird for me from here on out, especially since I have to try and write a little for a character I’ve never done to finish this story. I hope you all enjoy, and thank you for any and all feedback.


	52. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay fuck, this is hella short and it took hella long, and I’m sorry. But to be fair… I got a job, I worked all summer, got promoted during this summer, and then also was doing an online class while working 6 days a week 7 hours a day.   
> On top of that… I’ve probably gone into one of my most brutal school years this year. I’m doing homeowork and studying all the time, and when I’m not doing that… I’m working still. I’m just really busy, and I love this story, but I don’t have the same motivation as I did before. I think that shows, and I’m sorry.   
> I hope you guys find some sort of joy in it anyways.

"Harley Quinn I don't know what you hoped to accomplish, but you'd do well to _step away from her._ "

His voice began agitated, and by now all around him know not to interfere for fear of setting him off, but in the next second that carefulness became moot.

It took Damian all of fifteen seconds to notice Harley Quinn escorting his Soul Mate, and then promptly explode.

"Calm Down Seagull boy, I'm just here to drop Sugar Baby off," Harley replied seemingly without care for the fact that she was absolutely _surrounded_ by people who considered her an enemy.

Completely worn out, and with a raging headache making her want to rip her own brain out, Rowan stumbled forward heedless of the tense air around her.

"She didn't take me," Rowan said, her voice the only thing keeping the room from breaking out into chaos," she's just bringing me back."

"What do you mean _bringing you back_?" Damian questioned, advancing on her with a gait that was just shy of threatening.

 _‘Well at least he’s acting normal,’_ Rowan thought to herself.

Sucking in a breathe, Rowan fought the urge to tell Damian chill the fuck out in front of people that probably wouldn't understand her complete and utter lack of respect for Damian's irritation. She also fought the urge to say 'From your crazy ass Mama's' for fear that it would come out sounding like a bad joke.

In hindsight, the entire situation seemed like a bad joke.

Girl dates angry bird boy, bird boy's Mom steals her to the nest, and a crazy clown girl blows it all up. Where's the punch line? Rowan wasn't sure, but so far no one was laughing.

Well, Harley was but that wasn’t the same, psychotic laughter didn't count.

Damian was getting closer and closer, and Rowan was worried Harley would do something stupid when suddenly, just as Damian was within a hammer swing’s reach, a firm hand pushed her, and Rowan stumbled forward.

There was a brief, unhappy second where Rowan thought she was going to hit the ground.

Then she was engulfed in strong, familiar arms and even if her day was complete shit, everything in that moment was right.

“I’ve got you, Ro,” Damian whispered, voice as fierce as she knew his hidden gaze to be. Before she could help herself, Rowan was wrapping her arms around his strong form, eyes sliding shut as she held on to him.

She wanted to tell him what had happened, to say all the things his mother had said to her, and to ask him if he knew what was going on, because something bigger _had_ to be going on… but she couldn’t. She wanted to be strong, and smart, and help him find answers to whatever problem had her here.

She wanted to help, but instead she slowly felt her body trembling as it betrayed her, feeling safe in the arms of one of the only people she truly trusted. Her adrenaline drained, her fatigue hit her, and she simply held Damian in front of all the wreckage and the heroes and the lack of explanations.

Most importantly, Damian didn’t move. He lifted her up into his arms, tightened his grip, and refused to let her go.

Still, he was a little shit and of course he couldn’t just let things go.

"My _name_ is _Robin,_ " Damian practically growled at Harley's retreating form.

The blonde just laughed, though, and threw a flippant wave behind her shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said," but you're loud a loud, angry little brat so I like my name better."

The resulting laughter was a little hysteric, a little tired, and a lot confused as the sporadically placed heroes around her seemed to finally become overwhelmed with the ridiculousness of the situation.

Damian, though, only seemed to get angrier.

"Oh, and Seagull boy? Tell Daddy Bats that we're even."

He completely lost his shit at Harley's parting words, if the way he lurched forward _with her still in his arms_ and a previously withdrawn blade was anything to go by.

 _'This,'_ Rowan thought to herself as Damian tried to bolt after an already long gone Harley Quinn before realizing he was holding her still, and eyes stared her down with accusation and curiousness, _' is probably the worst day of my life.'_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

In the hours following her rather terrifying introduction into the company of the Justice League and their hall, Rowan found she had to amend her previous thought.

_'This is probably the worst fucking **week** of my life.'_

It had to be, because she was sure nothing would ever top being kidnapped by her Soul Mate's psycho mother, being saved by her friend's even more psychotic mother, and then having to deal with the fallout of it all in the face of a really stubborn Damian... and then Subsequently finding out part of the reason he seemed so torn up was because her _other_ Soul Mate was in some type of wicked, terrifying coma and no one knew how to fix it.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When he woke up, his head was pounding. Every beat of his heart rattled the inside of his skull, and Tim was forced to squeeze his eyes shut once more when the surrounding light blinded him and made the throbbing worse.

Still, between each beat Tim could just barely make out the sound of… something. A voice maybe? He wasn’t quite sure, so he tried his best to push through the pain and focus as much as possible. Slowly, the world seemed to break through the thick wall his senses had put up, and Tim was able to confirm the fact that it was indeed a voice.

Specifically, it was a voice calling for _him_.

“Red Robin? Can you hear me?”

Immediately trying to pull himself together, Tim brought his hand to his ear to lightly touch the communicator that was currently projecting the voice in his ear, and he opened his eyes and sat up.

“Yeah… Yes, I’m here. What’s going on?”

Before the voice, who he recognized now as Alfred, could tell him what was happening, Tim tried to piece it together himself. His body didn’t really hurt, yet it appeared he’d passed out on the floor. Something about that felt familiar, and he could pull vague memories of falling to the ground. Had he been knocked out?

“Batman needs support, are you able to go?”

 _‘Batman?’_ Tim’s psyche questioned, _‘Am I in Gotham? Was I fighting?’_

The questions rolled through him, but of course Alfred’s request was priority. Perhaps he’d finally hit that point where too many sleepless nights had caught up with him, or perhaps he’d been knocked out. Whatever it was, he could dwell on it later.

“I’m on my way.”

If Tim had been paying just a little more attention, or been in just a slightly better state of mind, he might of caught the fact that the normally attentive butler hadn’t asked after Tim’s own well being, since something was very obviously wrong. At the very least, Tim should have questioned the fact that he had taken off, a direction set firmly in his mind, without Alfred ever actually telling him where Bruce was.

Tim, normally sharp as they come, should have questioned a lot of things, but he didn’t. His mind, still clouded and thrumming with phantom pains, only comprehended the fact that he was needed, and so he moved.

All around him Gotham’s shadows seemed to twist, the streets curiously quiet as he moved. Form within the darkness, chilled winds whispered past his covered ears. Idly, he thought he could hear whispers in the air.

_Faster, faster._

Tim, without a second thought, picked up his speed.

_The Bat needs you, don’t be late._

Tim moved, because he knew better. He would be there.

_Don’t let him down._

Tim would never let Bruce down, he couldn’t.

_Make yourself useful._

Tim would do his best; he couldn’t bear to do otherwise.

Suddenly feeling a burst of anxiety that he had no explanation for, Tim tensed as he left a high rise building top, sailing past its polished glass windows on his way down.

Bruce was close; Tim could feel it. He was so close he just needed to-

“What do you need to do Drake? Get in the way?”

Head snapping to the side, Tim finally realized something was terribly wrong as emerald eyes glinted back at him from the surface of dark, polished glass. Startled at Damian’s voice and appearance, he twisted in mid air and sought out the younger man.

Finding nothing, Tim felt a quick burst of anger.

“Damian?” he called, “where are you!”

Tim didn’t have time for the brat’s games, though he wanted to figure out why Damian was even here. Was he in trouble? Did he need help too?

“Why would I ever need your help?” Damian called from just behind him.

Landing hard, Tim turned… Only to find the streets empty.

Except no, if he looked just off to the side, a familiar shape greeted him.

“Rowan?”

He received no reply, but in the next second, the figure moved into the flickering light of a street lamp.

Wild hair, warm brown skin, and the dull light glinting off of glasses confirmed it was her, and his confusion hit heavy.

“Rowan? What are you doing here?” he asked, walking towards her.

“What am I doing here? What’re you doing here Tim Cat?” she asked, smiling a soft smile that didn’t seem quite right.

Confused, and body suddenly heavy, Tim tried to reach her, but the light flickered once more, and suddenly shut off, shrouding the street in darkness.

“Rowan!” He shouted, worried for her.

“What’re are you doing?” she asked him again, voice higher in pitch.

Concerned, Tim tried harder to reach where she’d been, but it seemed as if his body was going nowhere, and he called out to her.

“Rowan! Come here, it’s not safe!”

“It’s not safe?” she asked, voice small,” If it’s not safe for me, then where are you?”

Confused, and still feeling unnaturally heavy, Tim tried to force his body to her.

“I’m right here, I’m trying to get to you, I don’t know what’s happening but you need to get somewhere safe,” he told her.

The darkness, suddenly seeming alive, started to swirl, and Tim felt his panic rising as Rowan’s voice wrapped around him within it. Suddenly, the darkness cleared, and in it Rowan stood. Her skin was just a shade too pale, her hair just a touch too wild, and her usually warm, understanding eyes cold.

“Somewhere safe? Is that with you, Tim? Will you save me? Where are you? What are you doing?”

What was he doing?

_'Whatever it takes.'_

That had always been what Tim lived by; because at the end of the day that's all he could do. This ghost of Rowan, though, looked at him with her empty eyes and questioned the validity of such a statement. She questioned Tim's very being, and stood even as his foundation shook.

"And if it takes everything? Would you save me?" her airy voice asked, heedless of the hands suddenly reaching from the darkness behind her.

Panicking, Tim reached out for her, afraid that she would be hurt. The moment he touched her, however, she vanished, and the hands clenched solid around his wrists.

Jerking back, Tim lashed out, desperately trying to pull away.

“And if it takes everything, is that what you’re willing to give for us?” the shadow of Rowan’s voice asked from behind him, mingling with so many others, cool hands that where so familiar and yet oh so foreign creeping up his shoulder blades.

His eyes glanced up, and he saw Rowan’s empty ones staring at him in an odd reflection from within the darkness. What he only ever knew to hold warmth seemed so cold, and finally, finally Tim felt a bit of clarity.

Finally, Tim realized his own stupidity, trapped in a world where everything was wrong but his truth was laid bare.

Finally, Tim realized he was trapped, because this was not Rowan, and the cruel specter that had left him torn was not Damian.

None of it was real, and yet even as Tim finally realized this, his truth remained the same.

Would he give everything to save the ones he loved? For them to be safe? For them to _love him_? He was afraid, but would he do it?

No matter what, the answer was always…“Yes.”

He didn’t fight it when small hands moved across his shoulders to wrap around his neck and push him down, nor did he fight the clawing appendages that pulled him farther into darkness.

.

.

.

.

And when Raven’s voice, full of darkness and sorrow but familiar and inviting called to him, he accepted that too, allowing her to pull him from within his own mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is one more chapter after this. It’s over double the length, but I’m not sure when it will be done, or if it’ll be what you guys want it to be.  
> I know it won’t be what I wanted it to be. There will be lose ends, unfinished pieces of plot, and so much more disappointment, and I’m sorry for that… But it’s time to end this. Truthfully, I should have ended this about ten chapters ago, and I didn’t because I had so much more planned, but you know what… I had fun writing this, flaws and all.  
> This will be the longest piece I’ve ever done, and the first one to ever get finished. It is also, and will always be, a piece of my heart. I’ve loved and enjoyed this story, and even with my failures, I hope you all did too. This story got it’s beginning because of me, but it got it’s middle, and it’s end because of my readers. For that, I can never thank you all enough.  
> Cheers, and see you in chapter 50… The last chapter <3


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